


Granted

by amythis



Series: Gilligan's Island, Late '60s [1]
Category: Gilligan's Island
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2019-02-03 07:19:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 24,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12743631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amythis/pseuds/amythis
Summary: When Ginger saves Gilligan's life, the favor to be granted is that she will teach him to become "the world's greatest lover."  But who's doing whom a favor, and what will the other castaways think?





	1. Lifesaver

It was the second time in ten minutes that Gilligan was too stunned to move. The first time, he'd definitely been frozen in terror. A deadly snake had slithered closer and closer. Then it stopped suddenly as flute music filled the air. The bushes parted as Ginger emerged, playing the Professor's bamboo flute, from when Mrs. Howell had the castaways form an orchestra a couple years before.

Ginger gasped at the sight of the snake, but then she started playing again, luring the snake away from Gilligan and towards the edge of a cliff. She stepped nimbly aside just before the snake slithered off the cliff and plunged to its death.

Gilligan stared at Ginger.

"I was once in a movie with a snake charmer. Gilligan, why are you looking at me like that? Don't tell me you wanted to keep the snake as a pet."

He shook his head. "Ginger, you just saved my life!"

"Well, you would've done the same for me. If you knew how to play the flute."

"I owe you everything! Tell me what you want, and I'll give it to you!"

"Hm. Anything?"

"Of course." He figured she'd ask him to be her servant. That was what the Howells would've asked. And it probably wouldn't be too bad working for her for a few days. Most likely he'd get on her nerves and she'd release him from the debt. That was what usually happened in such cases.

But then she said, "Well, in that case, I would like to teach you to be the world's greatest lover." And for the second time he was too stunned to move.

Mrs. Howell had once given him lessons on how to court Mary Ann, but Mr. Howell gave lessons to the Skipper, while Ginger taught the Professor. The castaways were trying to distract the farmgirl from the news that her boyfriend had married another woman, but then it turned out that Mary Ann had only been pretending to have a boyfriend. And anyway Mrs. Howell's lessons were more about being suave and charming, like Charles Boyer, than about being a "lover."

Ginger had over the last three years given Gilligan lots of kisses, but they seemed to be driven by interior motives, her trying to get something out of him, rather than by a desire to instruct, although he supposed he'd learned things from the kisses.

After he stood there for a minute, not doing or saying anything, she said, "Most men would be incredibly flattered and grateful for that offer."

"Um, thank you. But why me?"

"I think you have a great deal of potential. And I won't have to undo another woman's handiwork. I can mold you into the perfect lover."

"Uh, not that I don't appreciate the offer and all, but why bother?"

She shrugged. "Either we'll be rescued someday and you'll have a chance to meet many women, or we won't be rescued and I'll never get to meet many men. In any case, it'll pass the time pleasantly while we wait."

He gulped. "When you say 'lover,' what exactly do you mean?" The Skipper had told him some about the birds and the bees, and he picked up some ideas from songs and soap operas on the radio, but he wasn't sure how it all worked in practice. Also, "lover" seemed to mean different things to different people at different times. In the old movies he used to watch on TV before landing on the island, a lover might kiss a woman on the hand, but nowadays a lover might be much more intimate. And what would make a man the world's greatest lover? He didn't doubt Ginger knew how to teach that, but he wanted a better idea of what he might be getting himself into.

She sighed, "Oh, Gilligan," and stepped closer. She tucked the flute into the neckline of her gown and came even closer. She stood just inches away and took his white cap off. She ran her fingers through his hair as she murmured, "A good lover knows how to please and to be pleased."

That didn't exactly clear things up, and neither did the kiss she planted on his lips, but for once he decided to just let the kiss wash over him, not worry about what she was really after.

She was the first woman to have ever kissed him. He'd always been shy with girls and there had been no real opportunities before the island, even when he was in the Navy. And then he came to the island and there were two beautiful girls, and they both liked him, but he was still pretty shy. One was the girl-next-door type, very approachable, but it still wasn't easy. And the other was a glamorous movie star, in fact a star whose every movie he'd seen. He'd had a crush on her since high school. But that didn't prepare him for her kissing him on almost a weekly basis.

"Charmed I'm sure," he gasped when she paused for breath.

"Hm?"

"The snake movie you were in. _Charmed I'm Sure._ With Sabu."

She laughed. "You really have seen all my movies, haven't you?"

"Uh huh."

"I bet you never imagined back then that you'd be invited to join me in a real-life love scene."

Oh, he'd imagined it all right, but there was a big difference between imagination and reality.

Before he could think of how to reply, he heard the Skipper bellowing his name.

"Sorry, but I have to go."

"Are you sure?" she teased, dangling his cap in one hand.

"If I don't, I'm going to have to explain to the Skipper later."

She put the cap back on his head. "Well, I wouldn't want you to get in trouble with the Skipper."

"Thanks." He hesitated and then kissed her cheek. "I'll see you later."

"I hope so."

He wanted to say more but he wasn't sure what and there wasn't enough time then anyway. So he dashed off, not looking back, but he thought he could hear faint notes from a bamboo flute pursuing him. He didn't know if she'd spotted another snake or was just amusing herself.


	2. Flute

Ginger and Mary Ann had been trying to organize the storage hut. Over the past three years, many objects had been created for short-term purposes, including the instruments for Mrs. Howell's orchestra.

"Look, Ginger, it's your xylophone!" Mary Ann exclaimed, striking a few bars with her fingertips.

"Mm hm," Ginger murmured. She'd found the Professor's bamboo flute and couldn't help thinking of how his hands and mouth had touched it.

"Oh, I just remembered I have a pie in the oven! Ginger, how about we get back to this later?"

"All right." Ginger left after her friend, taking the flute with her.

She'd taken some music lessons while in Hollywood, not enough to be a very good musician but enough to be able to play a variety of instruments in a rudimentary way. It'd been years since she played the flute, but she longed to put her hands and mouth where the Professor's had been. She left the clearing and went off into the jungle, so she'd have privacy to practice. Perhaps she'd get good enough to someday serenade the Professor. After all, music hath charms.

However, she ended up being seriously sidetracked. First of all, she took the uphill path, wondering how the music would sound by the cliffs, flying out across the sea. It felt like something out of a movie, and therefore right. Secondly, the tune that came to mind was the one from her movie set in India, the tune of the snake charmer played by Sabu. And lastly, she saved Gilligan's life.

When he said he'd give her anything, she decided to ask the impossible. He wasn't the shy, frightened fawn he was his first year or so on the island, but he still wasn't exactly amorous. Still, she'd thought more than once what it would be like to "make a man out of him." Putting it as teaching him to be "the world's greatest lover" was a bit strong, but she did think he had potential. And who was to know if he was merely in the Top Forty?

She thought he might run away. There was a slight chance that he'd leap at the opportunity. But instead he just stood there, frozen, like a, well, shy frightened fawn who'd been hit on the back of the head.

Then mostly he seemed puzzled why she'd chosen him and what exactly she meant by "lover." Could any man be this naive? Well, maybe Gilligan could.

She teased and flirted with and then kissed him. By the end of it, he seemed to be kissing back more than usual.

And he remembered the Sabu movie. She wondered if part of the problem was that she didn't seem real to him because she was still the larger-than-life movie star to him. But then Mary Ann was the down-to-earth girl next door and he was just as shy with her.

She heard the Skipper yelling, "Gil-li-gan!" and knew the first mate would have to go. He did kiss her cheek before he went, which surprised her a little. It wasn't like Gilligan to initiate affection. Was he tempted by her offer?

After he went off, she played the flute again. She thought how much she desired the Professor and how she'd given him preliminary love lessons. There was the time she tried to teach him how to imitate Cary Grant (no relation), in order to distract Mary Ann from the marriage of her supposed boyfriend back home. And she tried to show the Professor how to woo Erika Tiffany Smith. Both times, she'd hoped he'd decide to woo her instead, but for a clever man he could be remarkably slow about some things.

Or maybe he just didn't want her. Yes, he kissed back when she kissed him, like when they filmed a kiss of gratitude for the movie that was supposed to get them all rescued, but he never initiated it. If she'd rescued him from a snake, would she have made the same offer she made to Gilligan and how would he have reacted if she had?

It wasn't that she wasn't attracted to Gilligan. She wouldn't have kissed him so much if she weren't. After all, she could've been kissing the Skipper and getting favors from him. But she didn't dream about Gilligan the way she dreamed about the Professor.

What would she do if Gilligan accepted her offer? She could just say she was kidding, or simply give him advice without demonstrations. Or maybe he'd let her down gently and the two of them could pretend it never happened. She could ask him to build something or fetch her something instead. It wasn't like he'd never saved her life after all.

But what if they went through with this? What would that be like? Would they both enjoy it? Would it change the way they felt about each other?

And how would the Professor react? Would he be jealous? Disapproving? Or happy for them?

Then she thought of Mary Ann. After all, it'd been obvious almost from the beginning that the farmgirl was sweet on the young sailor. Would she be angry with Ginger? It was hard to imagine her being happy for them. Jealousy aside, her strict old-fashioned virtue might be offended if Ginger took things further than the hugs and kisses that both girls indulged in with Gilligan.

Mrs. Howell would definitely disapprove. The former Lovey Wentworth hadn't wanted to cohabitate with her own husband when it appeared that the Howells' marriage was illegal. And Mrs. Howell had insisted on a chaperone the time everyone but the Professor tried to leave the island and then Mary Ann had offered to stay behind and keep the Professor company.

Ginger thought she might be able to get around Mrs. Howell, but there'd be no fooling her sensible roommate. And Mary Ann was like a sister to her. She decided she couldn't proceed any further until she talked this out with Mary Ann.

Gilligan would certainly understand if she changed her mind. After all, it wasn't something he'd gone looking for and he could probably live without it, particularly since he didn't seem to fully understand what she was offering. She lowered the flute and a smile played upon her lips as she thought of how many men, from the president of her fan club to the head of her movie studio, would've said that Gilligan was a very lucky young man.


	3. Coconuts

"What do I think? I think you're a very lucky young man. And it's very kind of Ginger to teach you. It'll really help you with the ladies when we get rescued someday."

"Uh, yeah, I guess it will." Gilligan had chickened out. He had wanted the Skipper's advice but was uncomfortable explaining the situation.

When he found the Skipper, his big buddy had him shimmy up a tree and gather coconuts. Then the two of them started to head towards camp, carrying the coconuts. Gilligan was proud of himself for not getting in an accident, especially considering how distracted he was by Ginger's request/offer.

"Is something wrong, Little Buddy? You don't seem yourself today."

"I've got something on my mind."

He half expected the Skipper to make fun of his mind, but instead the captain said, "Do you want to talk about it? You know I'm always happy to listen."

Gilligan could think of lots of times when the Skipper had been too busy or too cranky to listen to him, but he knew the Skipper meant well. It's just it was a lot to get into.

He decided not to mention Ginger saving his life. After all, she could've suggested her plan even if he hadn't offered her "anything."

But he wasn't sure how to lead up to it. It did seem pretty incredible when you thought about it. A sexy, glamorous movie star saying she wanted to make an ordinary guy into the world's greatest lover? The Skipper would probably think it was just his wild imagination, or that Gilligan had misunderstood her.

"Well, um, Ginger offered to teach me how to, um."

"Act? Look, you were OK in Shakespeare, but you're no Olivier."

Gilligan wasn't offended. He had no ambition to act. He was tempted to go with the Skipper's guess, since he would probably have to meet with Ginger if he went through with this, and acting lessons were as good an excuse as any. But he felt funny lying to the Skipper.

"Uh, no, not acting."

"Not singing I hope. Not after that mess with the Gnats."

Gilligan could've pointed out that the Skipper was a worse singer than him and no one had complained about Gilligan's singing in the Hamlet musical. But he just said, "No, not singing."

"Dancing?"

Well, that was the closest guess so far. And presumably dancing would be part of being the world's greatest lover. "Uh, yeah, she's offered to give me dancing lessons. What do you think?"

After the Skipper told him how lucky he was and Gilligan agreed, the Skipper said, "You'll have to show us all what you learned when she's done." Gilligan tried not to blush.

When they got back to camp, Mary Ann was taking a pie out of the oven.

"Mmm, that smells good! Is that for dessert tonight?"

"Yes. Oh, thank you, Skipper. And Gilligan. You got the coconuts I asked for. I'm baking coconut cream tomorrow."

"Is tonight's pie banana?"

"That's right. I might do coconut & banana Saturday."

It was a conversation that Gilligan had heard dozens of times in the past three years, and normally he would've participated more, since it was about one of his favorite subjects. But he was still pretty distracted by Ginger's offer/request.

"Gilligan, are you all right?"

Oh no! He couldn't tell Mary Ann what Ginger wanted!

The Skipper chuckled. "I think he's a little nervous. Ginger offered him dance lessons."

"Oh." Gilligan couldn't tell what her tone was. It sort of sounded like she didn't like the idea for some reason. Good thing she didn't know what Ginger really suggested!

"You'll have to dance with him before and after to compare."

"That would be fun." Again, her tone was off.

Gilligan kept thinking he should say something, not the truth but something to distract them from this topic that seemed to make Mary Ann almost as uncomfortable as he was.

And then the Professor came into the clearing, holding a mangled snake, and exclaimed, "I've made a startling discovery!"


	4. Great Idea

"Ginger, I heard about the lessons you've offered to give Gilligan, and I think it's a great idea."

Ginger was startled. Here she'd been trying to think of how to introduce the delicate subject, and her roommate just brought it up without hesitation.

"He told you?" That surprised Ginger, too. Gilligan was so shy about romance, including talking about it, and yet he'd gone running to tell Mary Ann? Ginger couldn't imagine him boasting about it, even to the Skipper, and it seemed extremely unlikely that he'd gloat about it to the farmgirl. It did cross Ginger's mind that Gilligan had wanted to get Mary Ann's approval, either because he respected her opinion and wanted to be sure she didn't think it was immoral, or because he was aware of her crush and didn't want her to feel jealous.

"No, the Skipper did."

That made a little more sense, although Ginger was still surprised that Gilligan had told someone already. But maybe he'd sought the advice of the older, more experienced man, in order to make up his mind. It did seem peculiar that the Skipper then went and told Mary Ann. Maybe he'd thought about her crush on Gilligan and wanted to be sure she was OK with Ginger's offer.

And it seemed she was. Ginger wondered if Gilligan knew that. My, this was complicated! She supposed she should just be grateful that Gilligan hadn't confided in the Professor instead. But at this rate, someone, probably the Skipper, would likely tell him by bedtime.

Ginger hadn't exactly expected to keep her offer a secret, but she had hoped to get a definite yes from Gilligan before having to worry about what, if anything, to tell the others. She realized she should've known better after three years. Word traveled very quickly in their tiny community. Not that there weren't any secrets, but it was challenging to keep the ones there were.

"I'll admit I was a little surprised," Mary Ann continued. "After all, Gilligan is sort of clumsy. But I guess practice makes perfect."

Ginger couldn't get over how frankly Mary Ann was discussing this. Yes, they were alone in their hut, but they'd never really talked about anything like this. To be honest, Ginger would've guessed that her roommate was too prim and/or innocent for this sort of conversation. Clearly, Ginger had underestimated her.

Trying not to blush herself, Ginger said, "I suppose so. And, um, it'll be fun to teach him."

Mary Ann nodded. "I'm sure it will be. In fact, I could help you if you want."

Ginger stared at her. "Help me?"

"Well, I'm not a professional like you are, but I'm not bad for an amateur."

Ginger didn't know if she was more insulted or shocked. What had happened to sweet little Mary Ann? Ginger suddenly felt like she didn't even know her after three years of being inseparable.

Before Ginger could think of a reply, Mary Ann asked, "Why do you look so surprised? After all, you've seen me in action."

"I, I have?"

Mary Ann shook her head. "Don't you remember? In the beauty pageant and when we were the Honeybees. And the time you tried to reform a criminal."

"You made love with Norbert Wiley? And the Mosquitoes? And Gilligan, just so he'd choose you as Miss Castaway?" How had Ginger been oblivious to all that?

Now Mary Ann blushed and stared. "Made love?" she whispered. "What are you talking about?"

"What are you talking about?"

"The dance lessons you're going to give to Gilligan of course," Mary Ann said, more loudly and impatiently.

Ginger understood now, sort of. Either Gilligan had lied to the Skipper, too embarrassed to say what Ginger had really offered, or the Skipper had cleaned it up when telling Mary Ann. "The Skipper said they were dance lessons?"

"Yes, Gilligan was right there but he didn't say a word. I just thought he was embarrassed about being a bad dancer. Oh!" Mary Ann blushed redder as it sunk in, making Ginger blush, too.

Then the Professor knocked and said, "May I come in?"

Ginger tried to pull herself together. "Of course, Professor."

It was an awkward moment to be interrupted, but Ginger didn't exactly want to continue this conversation, at least not just yet. She'd hoped to broach the subject more delicately, but it was too late for that.

"Oh, did you tell her?" The Professor looked surprised, too.

"Uh, no, it seems the Skipper beat me to it." Ginger assumed that the Skipper had told the Professor about "the dance lessons" as well. She hoped he wasn't off reporting to the Howells now.

The Professor looked at her funny. "Uh, I was talking to Mary Ann."

"Uh, no, Professor, I didn't tell her," Mary Ann said. "I figured you'd want to tell her yourself."

Ginger was baffled. What could this possibly be about? Was it good news or bad?

"Well, it is the most amazing discovery. Look!" He took a mangled snake out of his trouser pocket, causing her to scream like she hadn't since her last haunted house movie.


	5. Lemmings

Gilligan didn't say much at dinner, beyond things like "Please pass the salt." It was sea salt of course, the only kind he'd had for three years.

The two big dinner topics were the Professor's amazing discovery and Ginger's offer to Gilligan. The Howells now knew about the lessons and they offered to demonstrate their moves if Gilligan ever wanted to learn "the old-fashioned way." Since Ginger didn't react with shock or embarrassment, it was clear that someone had told her that he had told the Skipper that they were dance lessons. She did, however, look amused. Gilligan wondered who told her, the Skipper or Mary Ann? Or maybe the Professor? And he wondered if she'd told the person the truth.

If it was the Skipper or the Professor, they sure weren't acting like the lessons were anything other than dance lessons. The Skipper was still teasing Gilligan the way he had that afternoon, not as if he knew about Ginger wanting to make Gilligan into the world's greatest lover. As for the Professor, he seemed bored by that topic and eager to get back to his discovery.

Unfortunately, that topic was almost as uncomfortable for Gilligan, because, although the Professor had no way of knowing this, it was linked to the first topic.

"...So you say that the snake jumped off a cliff? By George, I haven't seen anything like that since the Crash of '29!"

"Well, I don't know that the snake was necessarily suicidal, although it is possible for animals to suffer from depression. Um, psychological not economic."

"That's what I'm saying. I've known a few snakes on Wall Street." Mr. Howell chuckled.

The Professor ignored this and said, "The snake might've been fleeing an enemy, although they don't generally plunge off cliffs."

"Lemmings?" the Skipper said.

"Here you go, Skipper," Mary Ann said absent-mindedly, passing him a citrus fruit.

The Skipper chuckled. "Lemmings, not lemons."

"Lemmings aren't snakes," the Professor pointed out.

"No, I know, but they jump off cliffs, don't they?"

"Actually, that's a myth. And I've certainly never heard of any reptiles doing it."

"Well, I hope you find out what's causing it, Professor," Mrs. Howell said. "I don't want a pride of snakes falling on my head when I'm going for a nice stroll on the beach."

"Lovey, I believe it's a 'congress of snakes.' Or is that 'snakes in Congress'?" Mr. Howell chuckled again.

"Wouldn't it be a swarm? Especially if it's falling from the sky?" the Skipper suggested.

"It's a nest of snakes," the Professor said impatiently.

Mrs. Howell shook her head. "Snakes aren't birds."

"The point is," the Professor continued, "I don't know yet if this one snake is an aberration or a harbinger."

Normally, Gilligan would've said, "It looks more like a python." The problem was, this was the snake that Ginger had rescued Gilligan from. And he knew exactly why it had plunged off the cliff and been mangled on the rocks below.

Ginger spoke up for the first time that evening, other than when she said things like "Please pass the poi." She now suggested, "Could someone have thrown the snake off a cliff?" She said it with a straight face but Gilligan thought her tone was a little mischievous. He shoveled more food into his face to keep from reacting.

"Well, that raises an entirely different set of questions. Obviously, none of us did that. So that would mean that there's someone else secretly on the island. If so, we don't know if they're friendly or not. After all, the act of hurling a snake could be a simple act of bravery. Or it might be an indication of psychopathy."

"What if this madman starts throwing poisonous snakes at us?"

"Calm down, Lovey," Mr. Howell said, patting his wife's hand. "It might just be a suicidal serpent."

"Professor," said Mary Ann, who hadn't been saying terribly much either, "couldn't it just be an accident? Maybe the snake didn't realize that it was going off a cliff until it was too late."

"Well, that's possible I suppose. In any case, I'll investigate this further."

"How?" The Skipper chuckled some more. "Are you going to fling snakes off the cliff yourself and see how they land?"

"No," the Professor irritably said. "Well, I might throw lines of rope, but I'm not going to harm snakes myself. I'm simply going to observe the snakes on the island and monitor their behavior for the next few weeks."

The Skipper and Mr. Howell looked at each other like they thought this was a weird way to spend your time, but Gilligan saw it as typical of the Professor, who was always doing something mysterious and scientific, always for the good of the castaways.

Gilligan was tempted to speak up, since in this case the Professor would be wasting his time. After all, Gilligan could say that Ginger saved his life with her flute-playing, without going into the true nature of her offer. But he was worried that someone might put two and two together and wonder why Ginger was going to give Gilligan dance lessons after saving his life. It wasn't something that naturally followed. Even if he said that that was her reward, what kind of reward was that for a woman who'd danced with so many famous, handsome, and suave men?

Of course, what kind of reward was it for her to teach him to be a great lover? He still didn't see what she was getting out of it. Maybe it was like when she kissed him. It wasn't like she had a lot of options on the island.

"Well, I guess it's time for what you've all been waiting for," Mary Ann said abruptly.

Gilligan wasn't the only one to look at her in surprise. What did they all want? The six of them never wanted the same things, except for things like rescue from the island and maybe gold.

Then the Skipper exclaimed, "Oh boy, banana pie!"

Gilligan did his best to react with his usual enthusiasm, but his heart wasn't in it.


	6. Apron

"Uh, Ginger, would you like to go for a moonlight stroll?"

Ginger was surprised. It wasn't like Gilligan to make the first move. Then again, any move he made at this point could hardly be described as first. She'd been flirting with him for so long, and now she'd offered herself to him. Still, it was a big and promising step for him to approach her.

Unless he simply wanted to talk to her in private and let her down easy. Well, it wouldn't be the first time he rejected her, and she would take it, as usual, more as a sign of his backwardness than of her unattractiveness.

If it was, in fact, a yes rather than a no, she was ready for that, too. Well, more ready than she'd been earlier in the day.

The Professor had apologized for startling her and then explained about the snake, to her secret amusement, since he couldn't possibly imagine the truth about the snake's death. Then he went to tell the Howells, leaving her and Mary Ann alone again.

"So it's not dancing you're going to teach Gilligan," Mary Ann said quietly.

"Right. How do you feel about it?"

Mary Ann shrugged. "It's nothing to do with me. I should go start dinner." 

Ginger couldn't tell if Mary Ann was really indifferent about it, but since she hadn't objected, Ginger decided to go ahead with the plan. That was, if Gilligan was willing, and Ginger didn't know about that yet.

She'd been amused at dinner, listening to the others, especially when they went on and on about the dead snake. Even if things didn't go anywhere with Gilligan, at least she was able to derive amusement out of their secrets. The poor boy was either too embarrassed or too hungry to have as much fun with it as she was. If he were as sophisticated as the men she knew in Hollywood, the two of them could've exchanged glances both mischievous and flirty. But if Gilligan were like a Hollywood man, she never would've made her offer.

Even his invitation to go strolling was shy and uncertain. She realized suddenly that he would lose that quality if she trained him as a lover. Well, she'd do her best to at least see that he'd become confident but not conceited.

Not only hadn't Gilligan met her eye at dinner, but he hadn't spoken directly to her. It was only now, as she was finishing washing the dishes, that he said anything, and that invitation was what he started with.

Once she recovered from her surprise, she dried her hands on her apron and said, "I'd love to." Then partly to test him and partly to get back to her usual glamorous appearance, she turned her back to him and said, "Could you untie my apron?"

"Oh, you can leave it on. It looks nice on you."

She tried to put her face into a neutral expression when she turned to face him again, not showing her amusement or disappointment. "Well, thank you. Where should we take our stroll?"

"The lagoon?" he suggested, as if it didn't really matter. It wasn't a bad choice, but if she did end up training him in romance, she would have to make clear the importance of physical setting in setting a mood. Well, that applied to any kind of mood, not just romantic.

"All right."

Gilligan walked too quickly to fit the definition of strolling. He'd glance over his shoulder to make sure she was keeping up, but it wasn't like they were going hand in hand. She had to assume he was impatient to get to the lagoon so he could give her his answer. If it was yes, then one lesson would be that the journey was at least as important as the destination.

When she arrived at the lagoon, he gestured that she should sit. She looked around and then as gracefully as she could perched on a waterlogged log.

Gilligan then paced back and forth in front of her, saying, "Ginger, I've got a lot to say, so please don't interrupt until I get to the end. Number one, I'm very flattered by your offer but." Here it came, the rejection. She wondered if it was her line or his that they could still be friends. Maybe that only applied to break-ups. Well, since he didn't want her to speak yet, she'd give him the first chance to say it. She did still want to be his friend, although things might be awkward between them for awhile. At least in Hollywood, she wouldn't run into a particular man every day, year after year.

He continued, "But I want to make sure this is something we're both comfortable with."

She wanted to say that that was very sweet of him, but she again bit her tongue and tried to be patient.

"So I think we should take it slow, and if either of us ever wants to end it, that's OK."

This time, she nodded, although he was looking away and didn't see it.

"Also, you probably guessed that I tried to tell the Skipper but couldn't. I didn't know he was going to blab to everybody else, but I guess we can let them think that, at least for now. Maybe later we can tell them the truth, but it's not like it's any of their business, except that we all get curious about each other. But this is different."

She nodded and wondered if she should tell him that Mary Ann knew, but she thought that might embarrass him more. And it wasn't like she and her roommate had discussed it in any detail. She certainly wouldn't be making progress reports to her friend.

"The other thing is, well, two things. One is I don't love you. I mean, not like a boyfriend would. I like you a lot and I admire you and obviously I've noticed how beautiful and sexy you are." Gilligan broke off, as if he'd said too much. He looked nervously at her.

She wanted to tell him that she didn't mind at all and she was attracted to him and fond of him, without being in love. But he wasn't finished yet and she wouldn't interrupt. So she held up two fingers.

"Victory? Peace? Air quotes?"

She supposed she should be glad he hadn't guessed she was making an obscene British gesture. She used both hands for a Time-out T, united Vs as a W, and then a one-handed O.

"T-W-O— _The Twonky!_ You were great in that!"

He probably was her biggest fan. That was one of her earliest movies, back when she was a teenager, and she only appeared briefly, on a screen onscreen, when the Hans Conried character tried to turn off the television that had a mind of its own.

She spelled out the word again, twice in a row.

"Twoe twoe? Tutu? Oh, two. Yeah, two is, um, well, I might not be any good, even after you teach me. I was never a good student, and, well, I never even kissed a girl before I met you." Now he looked at her with puppy-dog eyes.

He was terribly sweet and insecure, nothing like the men she was used to. It was very appealing. She wanted to reassure him, but even though she could presumably speak now, it wasn't the time for long speeches. So she stood up and simply said, "There are two ways to remove a lady's apron."

"Two," he echoed as she moved closer.

"This is tonight's method," she said, taking one of his hands and placing it on her hip.

He swallowed. "OK."

"Relax, Gilligan. You learned about knots in the Navy, right?"

"Yeah, but they weren't on girls."

"You can pretend I'm a mast if that would help."

"You're not exactly shaped like a mast."

She laughed. "Thank you." She'd leave sweet talk for another lesson.

She kissed him softly, not trying to overwhelm him for once. He hesitated for a moment and then not only kissed back but put his other hand on her other hip. She put her arms around his neck and kissed less softly. She felt his hands move to her back. He undid the knot at the back and then one hand undid the knot at her neck, but they were standing too close for the apron to fall. In fact, they pulled each other closer.

And she opened her mouth, trying not to startle him with her tongue. For now, she just lightly licked his lips and then waited to see his response. After a pause, he licked back.

She wasn't sure how far to take things tonight. She was enjoying this even more than she'd hoped. Well, she'd always liked kissing Gilligan, but it was even better when he was as interested in it as she was.

At least she assumed he was. But he pulled away first. "This is great, Ginger," he said a little breathlessly, "but we should probably get back before the others start to wonder."

She nodded. They'd have to arrange a date where they could spend more time together, the sooner the better.

He looked down at the sand. "Oh, your apron." He reached down and picked it up.

She couldn't help it, she asked, "Would you like to tie it back on me?"

He stood straight and swallowed. "OK." He handed it back to her and she slipped it on, thinking that she'd never realized before that an apron could be as sexy as a negligee under the right circumstances.

Gilligan left his hands on her back for fifteen minutes after he retied the knots. A lot of kisses happened in those fifteen minutes. The last was a goodnight kiss, and then they separately returned to camp.


	7. Chair

"Gilligan, if you like, I could help during Ginger's lessons."

Gilligan was so startled by the Professor's offer, he almost broke the cane chair the Skipper was having him make. "What could you do?" Admittedly, the Professor was older and presumably more experienced. And Gilligan had learned a lot filming the kiss between him and Ginger for the movie that was supposed to get them all rescued. But even with the limited choices on the island, the Professor wouldn't have been Gilligan's first pick for a man to get advice about women from.

"Well, you're going to need someone to run the record player, aren't you?"

Oh, right. The dance lessons. Before Gilligan could think of a polite and believable rejection, he heard Ginger's voice from behind, saying, "That's very sweet of you, Professor, but we're going to use the radio. I wouldn't want your arm to get tired."

"I don't mind."

"We appreciate that, but it'll be every night."

"Every night?"

"Yes, it's important that rehearsal is frequent and regular. So between eight and midnight every night. Don't worry, that's not opposite anyone's favorite radio programs. And we'll run and tell you all if there's any breaking news that affects the island."

Gilligan could think of lots of reports over the last three years that had been related to at least one of the castaways. And he was also thinking about what it'd be like to get daily four-hour lessons from Ginger.

"Well, you've certainly thought this through," the Professor said.

"My Hollywood training," Ginger said.

"Of course. And I guess it might be embarrassing for Gilligan to have an observer while he's first learning."

Gilligan thought he'd be just as embarrassed to have someone watching when he knew what he was doing.

Ginger smoothly said, "We'll demonstrate when we reach the Fred and Ginger level."

"Who's Fred?" Gilligan had to ask.

"Fred Astaire."

"Oh, right. Then I guess you're not the Ginger you meant."

She laughed, bent down, and kissed his cheek. "Oh, Gilligan." She sashayed away.

The Professor watched her go and murmured something that sounded like " Lucky son of a gun." Then he said, "Well, I should get to my herpetological research."

"But what about the snakes?"

The Professor shook his head and left without explaining. Gilligan hoped he'd given up on studying skydiving snakes. Gilligan had enough to feel guilty about as it was.

But guilt wasn't all he felt. Ginger had stirred him up last night, in a completely different way than ever before. Usually, he was holding back, or at most letting her do things to him. It was very different when he was as an active participant as she was. On the one hand, he'd never known it could be like this. And on the other, maybe on some level he had known, and that was why he'd backed away from not only Ginger but Mary Ann. He was at least as scared of himself as he was of the girls.

And that was just kissing! Well, hugging and kissing, holding her voluptuous body close as their mouths got closer and closer. Before, kissing had been about lips, but now tongues were included, too, and for someone as fond of food as Gilligan was, the more of his mouth that was involved, the better he liked it. Her tongue was as graceful as the rest of her, teasingly dancing across his lips. He'd tried to imitate it, but he needed practice, lots and lots of practice.

Four hours a night! That was more than he'd hoped for as he tossed and turned in his hammock, finding it hard to get to sleep and hoping he wouldn't wake the Skipper. He wondered if the Skipper would believe that Gilligan needed, let's see, twenty-eight hours of dancing lessons a week. Well, maybe he would. He thought of Gilligan as clumsy and slow-witted. The Professor seemed to buy it, and he was the smartest person on the island.

Not that Ginger was any dummy. Gilligan knew how clever she was from how she could wrap any man around her finger, him included. He did still wonder what she was getting out of this. But it wasn't like she was trying to get him to vote for Mr. Howell or share buried treasure or anything. Nothing had happened lately that would make her want anything from him.

Except, apparently, himself. She was an actress but she had seemed to sincerely want him last night. And twenty-eight hours a week was a lot of time to spend with him, without anyone else around. If there was some hidden scheme behind this, that was quite a sacrifice.

He'd wanted to ask her last night what she saw in him. OK, there weren't a lot of other single men on the island, not counting the occasional visitor. But he wasn't as strong as the Skipper or as brilliant as the Professor, not by a long shot. The Professor also looked more like a matinee idol than he did. Well, maybe that was it. Maybe Ginger was tired of the Hollywood type.

Or maybe it was that Gilligan was only 23, and young for his age. Maybe she liked being the (slightly) older and more experienced one, being able to teach him. And he wasn't ugly and he didn't smell bad. And he was a good person, or tried to be. And maybe after three years on the island, with their chances of being rescued ever dwindling, she couldn't afford to be choosy. Well, whatever her reasons, she was willing to teach him and he was definitely looking forward to the lessons. He'd enjoy this while it lasted.

Not that he wasn't nervous of course. She seemed like she was willing to be patient with him, but this was mostly new territory for him, especially once it got beyond kissing. He wasn't entirely sure what lay beyond kissing, but he was curious if scared to find out. 

Well, it was still morning and he had a lot of hours to get through before eight p.m. rolled around. He'd try to concentrate on the cane chair and not wonder where on the island tonight's date would be and whether it would be more hugs and kisses or maybe a little bit beyond. But as he wove the seat, he couldn't help wondering what other method there was to remove an apron besides untying the knots. And he shook his head at himself for having thought that the apron might make Ginger less intimidatingly seductive and more domestic and girl-next-door.


	8. Radio

Ginger went to Gilligan's hut with the radio a couple minutes before eight. She'd thought it over and decided it would be less awkward if he didn't pick her up for their date at her hut. Even though Mary Ann was still acting like this all had nothing to do with her, Ginger did feel funny that her roommate knew the truth. The Skipper still thought these were dance lessons, and even if he had known the truth, he probably would've approved. Gilligan was 23 now and the Skipper likely would've been pleased that Ginger was finally going to "make a man out of Gilligan." The Skipper was obviously attracted to Ginger himself, which he'd never made any secret of, as with the beauty pageant, but he wouldn't have begrudged Gilligan this. Still, she wasn't in any hurry to tell the Skipper, and Gilligan clearly wasn't either.

When she arrived, the Skipper was helping Gilligan tie his tie. She was a little surprised that Gilligan was dressing up, in what looked like a hand-me-down suit from Mr. Howell. But she supposed if he were going to Arthur Murray's dance studio, he would dress up for that. She was wearing her favorite gown, a little worse for wear, but then it wasn't like she could go shopping. Every once in awhile, clothes would wash ashore, or fashion magazines that would allow her and Mary Ann to update their outfits. Mary Ann had embraced the miniskirt as soon as she heard of it, but Ginger still preferred long, clingy dresses. Her dress made out of Gilligan's old duffle bag was usually the shortest she wore.

"Oh, you're early," Gilligan said as he spotted her.

"Sorry."

"That's OK."

"Gilligan," the Skipper nudged his little buddy, "tell Ginger how nice she looks."

"You do. Look nice."

"What, this old thing? You look very dapper."

Gilligan shrugged. "Thanks."

The Skipper shook his head and handed Gilligan two cane chairs. "Here, take these."

Gilligan looked puzzled. "She's not giving me sitting lessons."

"No, but part of dancing is asking a lady to dance. And you're not going to be on your feet for four hours, are you?"

"Uh, I guess not."

Ginger tried not to smile too much. "Thank you, Skipper. Gilligan, we should be running along."

"OK."

They both said goodbye to the Skipper, who told them to have fun. Ginger was starting to wonder if the Skipper had figured out what these lessons really were, but if he was going to keep pretending they were about dancing, she would, too.

As they walked along, she said, "You did a nice job on the chairs."

"Thanks, but I just did one of them. The Skipper did the other one, but he said they were for our hut. I didn't know he wanted them for the 'dance lessons,' too."

Ginger again wondered how much the Skipper had guessed, but she decided to not say anything to Gilligan, even if she got proof that the Skipper was clued in. The poor boy was self-conscious enough as it was, and he didn't need to know that Mary Ann knew and the Skipper might know. Especially since the Skipper and Mary Ann were unlikely to say anything to Gilligan about it.

"Where are we going?" Gilligan asked when they had cleared the clearing and were presumably out of earshot of the other castaways.

"This way," she said, pointing to the left path. She hadn't thought to bring chairs but she had scoped out a location that was secluded and romantic enough for her purposes and yet could plausibly be a small makeshift dance studio.

He followed slightly behind, not slowed down much by the chairs. She realized suddenly that he wasn't always clumsy, even though she suspected he was nervous that night.

She had decided this morning that she should make the major decisions for this relationship, because Gilligan was so shy and uncertain. He could certainly speak up if he disagreed, but she felt like she had to move things forward and let him him follow her lead. Announcing, to the Professor of all people, that she would be claiming Gilligan's attention four hours every night had been a bold move, but she wanted Gilligan to know her plan. He wouldn't be able to argue with it then, but he could question it later in privacy if he wanted. And then she'd just tell the Professor later that Gilligan was a better dancer than she expected and he didn't need as much teaching as she thought.

She'd been surprised, amused, and intrigued by the Professor's offer to crank the record player for them. Obviously, she couldn't take him up on it, but she had to wonder why he'd offered. Yes, he usually took care of the music when they did a play or something requiring music, but four hours a night? Was he suspicious of her lessons and trying to protect Gilligan's innocence? Maybe he thought of her as the wicked, (slightly) older seductress. Or could he have actually been jealous of Gilligan's lessons and trying to interfere with them? Or maybe he did really think they were dance lessons and was just trying to be helpful.

This path ended in a small clearing. The full moon was just visible through a gap in the trees, and the sweet scent of orchids filled the air.

Gilligan set down the chairs and said, "Too bad we don't have a table."

"What do we need a table for?"

"So I can practice pulling out your chair."

He seemed to think that she was going to teach him etiquette, but she knew that the Howells had covered that when they temporarily adopted him.

"Well, we're going to stand for awhile." She set the radio on a chair and turned it on.

"Oh, so we are dancing." He sounded disappointed.

"Among other things." She found a slow song and then waited.

Gilligan took his hat off and held it in both hands. "Uh, may I have this dance?"

"You may."

He put his hat back on his head and took her in his arms. She thought of how he must lead, as the man, yet she must guide him. It would be a delicate balance.

She did murmur some instructions, but mostly they moved just a little and got used to holding each other close. This was an important step, and it felt very nice anyway. She had missed this.

When the radio went to a commercial, she said, "Let's sit down."

"OK."

He moved the radio to the ground and sat next to her. She took his hand, which was warm. "How do you like it so far?" she asked with a smile.

"I like it, but I don't really know what to expect."

"I don't either," she admitted. "I've never taught anyone like this and you're an unusual pupil."

"Um, thank you."

She laughed and was going to kiss his cheek, but he turned his head and soon his mouth was enthusiastically kissing hers.


	9. Fan

Gilligan had liked the slow dancing but it had made him want to kiss Ginger even more. She now kissed back for awhile and then pulled away a little to say, "I'm going to do something but I don't want to startle you."

"Thanks for the warning," he said, although he was a bit worried about what she would do that would merit a warning.

She moved her mouth back and this time licked his lips. He remembered that from last time and wondered why she was preparing him for it. When she stopped, he licked her lips, like last time. But this time she opened her mouth while he was licking and her tongue licked his. His mouth fell open in surprise, and her tongue darted in.

And then her tongue taught his all sorts of games, wrapping around each other and dancing and playing. He'd heard of open-mouthed kisses and even seen a few at the movies, but he'd never been clear how they worked. It wasn't something you could watch or have explained to you. You had to be on the inside of one.

Gilligan had never realized all these years that Ginger was actually holding back when she kissed him. Not that there wasn't a lot to her regular smooches, but this was a whole extra dimension.

And he could really taste her mouth now, which made it even better. His tongue was eager to keep exploring.

When they took a little break, she said, "That was very good, Gilligan. You've definitely got enthusiasm. But let me show you some things to do that will drive the girls wild."

He almost said, "What girls?", but he assumed she meant the girls he'd date once they were rescued. That felt a long way off, and right now he was focused on the girl on the other cane chair. "Like what?"

She took off his hat and tossed it to the ground. Then she stroked his hair very gently. "Women like to be caressed anyway, but It's even nicer if you do it during kissing. It can be a soft kiss or something more passionate, but a gentle touch makes her feel cared for, special."

It did feel nice on his hair, so he stroked her hair.

"That's right. Like that."

She held his head and moved her own closer again. They kissed softly this time, stroking each other's hair. After awhile, she opened her mouth, so he opened his. She stroked his face, so he stroked hers. Her skin was very soft and he wondered what it would be like to kiss her face.

But then she sucked his tongue and it was hard to concentrate on anything else. It took an effort to even remember to keep caressing her face and hair.

It was amazing how much there was to kissing, like he'd only ever seen the tip of the iceberg until twenty-four hours or so ago. What if he hadn't kept backing away from her? He could've had this years ago. But maybe he couldn't have handled this then.

The commercials were over and the slow dance music was back, but neither of them got to their feet again. Gilligan liked having the music on during the kissing. He supposed he'd have to play the radio, or maybe get a hi-fi set, after they were rescued, if he did become a great lover.

He still couldn't picture himself that way. Well, OK, he had once dreamed he was a smooth James-Bond type spy, and he and Ginger had shared quite a kiss, but she was a spy, too, so he used her poisonous lipstick against her. He had no defense against this kiss and didn't want one.

But after awhile, their mouths got tired, so he suggested they dance again. She nodded and got to her feet. He didn't immediately stand but instead looked up at her, admiring what the moonlight did to her gown and hair. He thought of all those years of watching her on the movie screen, sitting there in the dark, either going alone, or with Skinny Mulligan nudging him and saying, "Do you think she looks that good in person? And do you think she's stuck-up like most actresses?"

Gilligan also remembered how he felt when she boarded _The Minnow_. He'd recognized her immediately, while the Skipper just saw her as a gorgeous dame. Gilligan tried not to be too starstruck, but he couldn't help later thinking of how Skinny used to say, "Boy, I'd love to be stuck on a desert island with a chick like her!"

Skinny meant stuck alone with her. But if the other five castaways weren't around, Gilligan probably would've been just as shy the last three years. Tonight was different, but only because his eyes had finally been opened to what he'd been missing. And now he couldn't take his eyes off her, including the way her gown clung to her body and shone in the moonlight.

"Gilligan, it's rude to stare."

He looked at her face again and saw that she was blushing. "I'm sorry. It's just I really like to look at you."

"You do?" She sounded surprised. "You sure don't act like it sometimes."

"I didn't want you to know," he admitted.

"Do you like to touch me?"

"Yeah." He thought about how he'd never been able to touch her when he was just a fan in a movie theater, and he'd been nervous about it for so long after he met her. But now he stood up and took her in his arms. It felt really good to hold her and stroke her silky red hair.

"Do you like to taste me?" she whispered in his ear.

"Yeah!" he gasped.

And they played tongue-kissing games while they slow danced.


	10. Paint

Ginger couldn't stop thinking about last night. It had been nothing like any first date she'd had before. In fact, despite her image, she didn't always kiss on the first date, especially French kissing. But she didn't usually know a man three years before the first date.

In some ways, she knew Gilligan very well, from the name of his best childhood friend to what he'd buy with a million dollars. And yet, he could still surprise her after all this time. He'd still been Gilligan last night, but a more affectionate and even more passionate Gilligan than she'd ever seen.

All they'd done was kiss and dance, but she was getting awfully curious about what he'd be like when they went further. Yes, she was teaching him, but it was more like teaching someone to paint by demonstrating the basic strokes, as opposed to buying them a paint-by-numbers kit. The resulting artwork was not something she could predict.

They'd spent part of the date on their feet and part sitting down. Before she'd known about the cane chairs, she'd thought they might sit on the ground, but the chairs had been more comfortable. They agreed to leave the chairs in this clearing for next time. She had the feeling that the Skipper wouldn't mind. There might come a time when they'd need a more intimate piece of furniture, but she'd figure that out when they got there.

At this point, she was wondering if it might be rushing things to introduce Gilligan to necking tonight. And wondering whether Gilligan still wanted to take it slow. However, if they did nothing but kiss and dance for a week, or a month, she wouldn't mind.

She faced one of her greatest acting challenges that day. She had to continue to pretend these were dance lessons, despite stirring Gilligan up and getting stirred up herself. She didn't know which she was more surprised by. Here she'd spent three years of either getting no response from Gilligan or having him overwhelmed by her attentions. It was quite a new experience to have him reciprocate and sometimes even initiate. She'd always wondered what it would be like to awaken Gilligan, and now she was finding out.

And he was really getting to her. He was still a long way off from the world's greatest lover, but he was better than she'd expected. And it was exciting to discover a side of Gilligan that was hidden from everyone, including probably Gilligan.

She had to hide her discovery, and her reaction to it, from the others. If Gilligan seemed embarrassed that day, it was plausible that he felt self-conscious about everyone knowing about the dance lessons. But Ginger had no cover story for feeling like a giddy teenager, so she hid that as well as she could.

She didn't even want Gilligan to know the effect he was having on her. She was supposed to be the sophisticated, experienced, (slightly) older woman. She would enjoy herself, yet remain cool underneath her warmth. But she knew she couldn't preserve that facade forever. As they got more intimate, she would eventually hold nothing back.

There had been a moment last night when she had felt terribly self-conscious. They were going to dance again, but instead of leaping to his feet, Gilligan sat and looked at her, as if really looking at her for the first time. And she wondered if he saw flaws in her. After all, she was pushing thirty now, still young but not as young as she was when they met. And she was three years away from the pampering and maintenance she'd received at various movie studios. She exercised, took mud baths, and designed and applied her own makeup on the island, but it wasn't the same as being taken care of by professionals.

And then it occurred to her that Gilligan was simply ogling her body. After all, he hadn't seen many women in the past three years, and he wasn't usually the type to stare. Maybe he was allowing himself to ogle because of the kissing lessons. She again felt self-conscious but flattered, too, because he looked for an awfully long time.

It wasn't until she was in her bed, listening to Mary Ann's sleep-breathing, that it occurred to her that Gilligan had been looking at her like she was on a movie screen. Perhaps it was really sinking in that he was going to be fooling around with someone he first saw in a movie. Or maybe it was just sinking in that he was going to be fooling around.

Her own mental adjustments were different. It was sinking in that she had someone to kiss and more, for the first time in ages, and that someone was shy, inexperienced Gilligan. She'd been attracted to, for instance, Duke Williams the surfer, but he moved too fast for her, not to mention that he was chasing Mary Ann at the same time. Gilligan wouldn't rush her, and he wouldn't flirt with other girls.

Or so she assumed. Maybe awakening Gilligan would mean he'd be eager to do everything. And/or he'd become girl-crazy. She considered warning Mary Ann, but she knew Gilligan was very unpredictable sometimes. You'd think you had figured him out, and then he'd throw you for a loop.

It made this project all the more interesting. Under other circumstances, she'd want to report to the Professor, since wasn't this in a sense a scientific experiment? She'd learned a lot about science in the past three years, simply by being around the Professor and sometimes helping him in his studies. But she knew that this was too private to discuss with anyone, and the Professor seldom had time for romance, his own or anyone else's. Also, she supposed she didn't have the scientific objectivity that a true scientist should have. She couldn't keep her distance from Gilligan and simply observe.

She also wished she had a girlfriend she could confide in about Gilligan. She was closer to Mary Ann than she'd been to her last roommate, Debbie Dawson, but she and Debbie had had different tastes in men, so, no matter how much rivalry they had as actresses, they'd never been romantic rivals. She and Debbie would discuss the men they were dating, the men they wanted to date, and the men who wanted to date them but had no chance. Ginger missed that and she did wonder what Debbie would think of Gilligan.

With Mary Ann, well, the farmgirl continued to act as if Ginger was just giving dance lessons. Was she really over Gilligan? Maybe Gilligan agreeing to get romance lessons from Ginger was a sign to Mary Ann that she never really had a chance with him. Ginger wasn't so sure about that. Maybe Gilligan would turn his attention to Mary Ann once he'd built up his confidence and experience. But Ginger wasn't quite ready to share or give up Gilligan. She had much, much more she wanted to do with him. Yes, teaching him about necking tonight sounded perfect.


	11. Activities

Gilligan's second date with Ginger began like the first, with dancing and kissing, both alternately and simultaneously. But then, while they were dancing for the second time that night, Ginger whispered in his ear, "Some women like ear blowing." She demonstrated on him, with warm, gentle breath.

He took this hint and did his best to imitate her.

"Mm hm. And kissing the ear can be very nice, too. Soft, teasing kisses, especially at first."

Again demonstration and imitation. It tickled a little, but not in a bad way.

"I like that," she whispered the next time. "Very much." And then her mouth teased his neck in a way that he found so distracting he stopped dancing.

"Would you like to sit down?" she suggested.

"Yeah," he said a little breathlessly.

So they sat in the cane chairs and he learned more about necking. He'd seen some at the movies, but more often in the back row than onscreen, so it was harder to observe. And it definitely felt different than it looked. It looked weird and awkward, but it felt great.

His lips and occasionally his tongue ran across her soft, smooth skin, making her sigh happily. And her talented lips, and teasing tongue woke up his face and neck, making him feel all tingly.

He tried to stroke her hair, when he remembered to. He did want her to feel special. She was special, teaching him all this, opening up a whole new world for him.

Sometimes their mouths would work their way back to each other and their tongues would hug. They'd kiss for awhile and then move back to cheeks, ears, and necks.

Four hours seemed to be just the right length of time for a date. Of course, these were dates without movies or restaurants or roller rinks. From what he'd overheard in high school and then the Navy, this was the part of the date that you could look forward to if the movie, restaurant, or roller rink had gone well and the girl liked you enough that she wanted to show her appreciation. Apparently there were bigger thank-yous than this, but the other guys usually dropped to whispers when they talked about those, so Gilligan had overheard much less.

This was different. Gilligan wasn't spending any money on Ginger. And she was the one to suggest each new step. Also it didn't seem like she was just rewarding him. She seemed to be enjoying all this as much as he was.

He remembered telling her— was it only two days ago?— that he wanted to take things slow, but he was no longer sure what slow meant. He knew there were steps between kissing and birds & the bees stuff. But he didn't know how many steps there were or how many were left. Were they doing a step per date? All he knew was he having a wonderful time, and Ginger seemed to have found a way around his nervousness. Not that he was exactly relaxed, but he was willing to trust her as she suggested each new thing. If it ever stopped being fun, or if he ever felt overwhelmed, then he'd put on the brakes, but for now, he was perfectly fine spending most of these four hours necking. He was willing to wait to see what she came up with for their third date.

He did think of these as dates as well as lessons, even without the surrounding activities. They both used the word "dates" and they were scheduled times to be romantic. And yet, he'd always thought of dating as a chance to get to know a girl and become closer. He didn't feel like that was happening, maybe because these were also lessons, but maybe also because it was Ginger.

In some ways, he knew Ginger very well, not just her acting career, which he'd memorized before they met, but also some of her likes and dislikes. He also knew about her former roommate Debbie Dawson and how she envied Debbie being able to move forward with her acting, while Ginger's one encounter with a producer on the island had not gone well. (Gilligan thought she not only sang and acted terrific in the _Hamlet_ musical, but she had looked beautiful in the flowing white gown and her hair loose and long.) He knew she was interested in medicine, too, not just helping the Professor as a nurse but once psychoanalyzing Gilligan. He'd been glad she hadn't asked about his dreams, since she featured pretty heavily in them and it had been harder to keep his distance from her than in real life.

The thing was, in some ways Ginger kept her distance. Not physically, but emotionally. He'd seen her laugh and cry and he knew how she felt about a lot of things, but he didn't really know how she felt about him. Was this all just a way to amuse herself? Was she lonely? Or did she, as he'd once thought when Mrs. Howell tried to matchmake him with Mary Ann and he'd misunderstood, have a crush on him?

He wasn't sure how he felt about Ginger anymore. He liked her of course, more than ever, because, whatever her motives, this was a very nice thing to do for him, making him into the world's greatest lover. And she must've realized that that would take months or maybe years to achieve. But he was confused by the excitement he felt when they danced, kissed, and now necked. Was that about the activities or about her? And how would he ever know, when all they did on dates was make out, and he never made out with anyone else?

Well, maybe it was OK to not have this sorted out in only a couple days. If he did have months and years of dating and learning with her, even someone as slow on the uptake as he was sometimes could figure this all out.


	12. Napkins

Ginger was doing her best to act normal at dinner, to not let her eyes wander too often to Gilligan's mouth, to not let her mind wander too often to her possible plans for the third date. Then suddenly the Skipper asked, "So, Gilligan, what dances have you learned so far?"

"Uh, I don't know what they're called."

Why did the Skipper have to ask that in front of everyone? It wasn't like he couldn't have asked his friend in their hut. Now everybody but Gilligan was looking at her expectantly. He could play dumb and go back to filling his face, but she would be expected to know the names of the dances she was teaching.

"Well." She dabbed her mouth with her napkin, one of the cloth napkins that Mary Ann had taught her to sew from scraps of old clothing. "We started with the box step. And then the spin. And tonight it'll be the dip."

"So," said the Skipper, "it's more like pieces of dancing than actual dances?"

"That's right. Then when he's mastered those, we'll put them all together."

"I was imagining something terribly more modern," Mrs. Howell said.

"Yes," said Mr. Howell, "like when you taught him the Whatever."

"The Watusi?" Ginger said, trying not to laugh

"Well, I don't want to split my pants again."

Everyone laughed except Gilligan. He'd actually split his tight trousers trying to pick up a drumstick he dropped when the fellas had formed a rock group. The trousers had stood up to the Watusing. But his recollection of this embarrassing memory had distracted everyone from Ginger's current dance lessons.

And then Mary Ann asked the Professor about his snake research, and the conversation moved away from Gilligan. (The Professor, not surprisingly, hadn't come across any other snakes that slithered off cliffs.). To Ginger's surprise, Gilligan gave her a quick grin across the table. She hoped no one else saw it. She felt like winking herself.

She'd never had a secret with just Gilligan before. With Mary Ann of course, and sometimes with both of the other women. With the Professor sometimes. And sometimes with Mr. Howell, especially in the early days. She might've even shared some secrets with the Skipper, but none immediately came to mind.

She and Gilligan were an unlikely team, not just romantically. They didn't have much in common, and they often had opposing interests. But that added a certain zest to their secret. The very unlikeliness of these lessons made them even more delightful.

And last night had taken Ginger back to her adolescence, the fun and safe naughtiness of necking. Only now she knew what was beyond it, and not just in the sense of her mother's vague warnings of what it might lead to, giving boys ideas, as if the boys who took Ginger out didn't have those ideas anyway. And Ginger had had ideas of her own, although she kept her reputation before running away to become a movie star.

In Hollywood, you were in as much danger of getting a reputation for not fooling around as you were for fooling around. It was a tightrope, especially for someone who was a classy sex symbol.

And she steered clear of the casting couch. She wanted to succeed because of her acting and singing ability. She watched herself on dates with producers, directors, and influential actors. Writers were OK. They were pretty powerless, and some of them were cute.

She thought of the last actor she met. It was just last winter and she hadn't known at first he was an actor. She and the others had thought Tongo was a real ape man, not someone practicing for the role. She'd remarked that she'd dated swingers in Hollywood, but not like that. She wondered sometimes what it would've been like if they'd met back home. He was a tall, muscular blond, the Duke Williams type. She was attracted to that type, and of course dated such men in Hollywood, but it never lasted long. She'd get bored and move on.

In contrast, Gilligan had always fascinated her, sometimes as an unusual specimen and sometimes as a cute, quirky boy. She'd try to figure out how his mind worked. And of course he was a challenge to her. He wasn't like other men, but he was very intriguing. And now there was this whole other side to him, which she loved discovering. And there was still so much to reveal.

However, if this was to continue, she was going to have to reveal more of herself. And that was a delicate balance for a girl who'd spent half a lifetime raising teasing to an art form.

Mary Ann asked her to pass a napkin, since Gilligan had just accidentally spilled his coconut milk onto Mary Ann's plate. Ginger pulled her attention back to the dinner table. She'd wait till tonight's date to decide where it would lead. And for all she knew, Gilligan might have his own ideas about that. All she would determine for now was the right outfit for date number three.


	13. Halter

Gilligan noticed Ginger's outfit for the third date wasn't one of her gowns. Instead it was a tropical print halter top with a lot of pink, yellow, and orange in it, and she wore the matching skirt. She had her hair up.

It was an outfit he'd seen many times, like most of her outfits, but he wasn't taking it for granted that night. He was now very aware of her exposed neck, leading to her exposed shoulders, and even her exposed upper chest. He tried not to stare at her cleavage, so he moved his eyes quickly down to her exposed stomach, but that was distracting, too.

He left his hut in a daze, hardly hearing the Skipper's wishes for a fun dance lesson. He couldn't wait to be alone with Ginger and neck with her again.

"You look great," he managed to say, when they were finally on their cane chairs.

"Thank you, Gilligan," she murmured, and then she teasingly pulled him closer by his tie, just like in the movies.

They kissed and necked, and when his hands started stroking not just her face and her hair but her shoulders, she purred, "Yes, Gilligan."

So he kept moving his hands down, one in front, one in back, till he was at the border between cloth and skin. His front hand could feel how soft and full her breasts were, just like he'd always imagined, when he'd let himself think about them.

"Mmm, Gilligan, you're so gentle! But you don't have to be shy. I want you to touch them."

"Yeah?" he whispered.

"Yes. Please caress them."

"OK!" His shyness and his eagerness were battling, so he wanted to impatiently strip off her top and reveal her entire chest, but he instead eased the top down slowly. 

"Oh, Gilligan, you tease!"

He thought that was funny coming from her, when she'd been dangling herself in front of him for years. But maybe she thought his hesitancy all this time was due to his teasing. That had never been his intention. But he suddenly wondered if she'd like to be teased on a whole new level.

So he whispered in her ear, "Do you like to be teased, Ginger?"

"Sometimes." She bit her lip.

He kissed her ear and very lightly stroked her halter top. She let out a shuddering gasp, but not of shock or horror

He kissed down her neck to her shoulders, both hands playing with the front of her top. He let one hand linger for awhile and then he gasped himself at what he thought might he a hard nipple beneath the cloth. Skinny Mulligan had told him some about nipples, but Gilligan had never been sure how much was true.

"Maybe you don't need lessons after all." Ginger didn't sound as cool and poised as usual.

He straightened up and met her deep green eyes. "Ginger, tell me what you like."

"I like, I like the way you're moving in on them, not immediately taking my top off. And, um, I like my, my breasts cupped from underneath. My, my nipples teased. Outside clothes and then under, and finally exposed."

"You're not wearing, um?"

"A bra?" She smiled, a touch of the old vamping Ginger. "I hardly ever do on this warm island."

He let out a little moan. He'd been wondering about that for a long while. Ginger's outfits exposed so much of her shoulders and cleavage, he didn't know how a bra could be designed to reveal so much, although it might be possible in Hollywood. He assumed Mary Ann wore bras, but Gilligan could hardly ask her, or Ginger. In any case, both girls seemed to have nice, firm breasts, Ginger's larger but Mary Ann's perkier. Not that he usually ogled them, but he'd had time to unobtrusively notice in the course of three years.

"I'll wear a bra sometime so you can practice taking it off me. It's a very valuable skill to have."

He supposed it was, but right now the fewer layers of cloth she had up top, the better. "Thanks," he said, and cupped her chest from underneath.

They started French kissing again, but this time he played with her chest. There were no ties to undo, so he eased her top down slowly but smoothly with one hand, while the other hand stroked each inch of skin being exposed.

"Mmm, Gilligan," she sighed in his ear.

They necked again as both his hands stroked her breasts, marveling at their weight and softness, except for the two stiff points.

He loved kissing and necking, but he had to see her breasts after wondering about them so long. He kissed down to her shoulders and kept going.

"Wow!" he gasped. Her breasts were paler than the rest of her skin, a light pink that was almost alabaster. The nipples were a dark pink bordering on tan. The curves of her chest were even more amazing without her shape-hugging clothes, especially with his eyes so close to them. "Beautiful," he murmured. 

"Oh, Gilligan," she sighed.

"Can I kiss them?" he asked and then wanted to bite his tongue. That was much too bold a request.

But she cried, "Yes!", so he did. Softly, tenderly at first, unable to believe this was happening.

She did give him some instructions, but less coherently than usual. And she stroked his hair very tenderly.

This went on for awhile and then he got a crick in his neck.

"Put your head in my lap," she suggested, so he did.

She rubbed his neck for awhile and he stroked her soft but fit stomach.

Then she leaned over him, dangling her breasts, and he flicked out his tongue at one.

"Ooo, Gilligan!"

He licked and kissed and eventually sucked that breast, till she was softly crying his name. Then he repeated the process on the other breast. This time she urged him on by pulling his hair, not hard but enough to excite him even more. And now she called him "naughty Gilligan," which he liked. He did feel naughty, sharing this delicious secret with her.

When he rested, his head still in her lap, his hands caressing her stomach, she said, "Gilligan, you're a natural at this, but I'll teach you some finesse when I'm feeling calmer."

"Finesse?"

"Yes, like some more specific moves, like how to move the, the nipple around with your fingers and tongue."

He sat up. "Can you show me tonight?"

She laughed. "Rome wasn't built in a day you know."

"But you're Cleopatra," he said, remembering another play the castaways put on.

She looked like she was considering various replies, but she softly kissed his mouth. He tried to match the tenderness of that kiss, but it wasn't long before they were French kissing and he was fondling her luscious breasts again.


	14. Instructress

This time Ginger waited until they got to their clearing before she put on the apron. Then she asked, "Would you like to learn the other method to remove an apron from a lady?"

Gilligan nodded eagerly, as she thought he might. He'd been very eager the previous night, as he lavished attention on her chest. She'd half expected him to back away, to say it was too much too soon, but instead he'd wanted to keep going, and she certainly hadn't wanted him to stop. He really really got to her, and it'd been difficult to not show all she was feeling. Tonight she was willing to let herself go, while still being his instructress.

She turned her back to him and said, "I want you to kiss my ears and the back of my neck, as your hands undo the knot at the top of the apron. Then reach around to the front and stroke my blouse, teasing me. Keep up the neck kisses as much as you can." She had to get these instructions out all at once, while she was still calm, because it would be harder to talk clearly once he got going.

"OK!" Gilligan gasped.

Even though she knew what he was going to do, it still got to her. As soon as the top of her apron fell, his hands moved to her chest and started teasing. But he added things she hadn't expected, like whispering in her ear, "I loved touching and tasting them last night."

"Oh,Gilligan!"

"Even just seeing them. I always wondered what they looked like."

"You did?"

"Of course. Especially when I sat in the dark at the movies and you couldn't see me staring."

"But not on the island?"

"It's rude to stare in person. But I still wondered."

"Are you disappointed?"

"Definitely not." Then one hand started to slowly peel down her top, while the other caressed her stomach before moving around to the back to untie the other knot of the apron.

After the apron fell to the ground, she cried, "Hold me, Gilligan!"

His arms wrapped around her from behind, a squeezing yet tender hug. She leaned against him, feeling the heat of his skinny but energetic body.

"Ginger!" he cried, and she knew he was very aware of her body. His own body gave a clear sign of that.

It was very tempting to make this the night, but she didn't want to rush that much. They'd need at least one more date between that one and this, and even then, this was all going faster than she was used to. But then she'd never had so many dates in one week, at least not dates like this.

"Let's sit down," she said.

"OK." He sat and crossed his legs, as if suddenly self-conscious.

She took his hand. "Gilligan, this is very exciting, but we need to concentrate on making you a great lover."

"Yeah!"

She smiled to herself. He was very eager, which was a very pleasant change from the past, but eagerness was not enough. "There are things we're going to do together that I think we're both going to really like."

"Yeah!"

"But we need to get ready for them."

"I'm ready now! Just tell me what to do!"

She kissed his cheek. "I need you to savor the steps, like you were before. I promise you it'll be even better when we get there. And remember, I'm training you to please women, and women need these steps."

He took a deep breath. "All right, I understand. It's just, the more we do, the more I want to do. And the harder it gets to wait."

She resisted a pun on hardness and instead said, "You're the one who wanted to take it slow."

"That was before I knew about all this."

She laughed. "You're not scared of me anymore, are you?"

He took the question seriously. "I sort of am, but not like that. It's like you have a power over me and can make me feel and do things."

"You have a power over me, too," she admitted.

"I do?"

"Mm hm. This kind of pleasure makes people, both men and women, feel helpless, in a nice way, but still."

"You seem so calm though."

"I'm an actress, so I can hide my feelings, and I'm more used to this than you are. But you do get to me."

"Like when you pulled my hair last night?"

"Uh huh. And, well, you can see how hard you've made my, my nipples."

He looked down. He hadn't eased her top down much, but it was enough that her nipples were almost exposed. And they were making fierce points under the cloth.

He grinned and then he put a finger in his mouth. That hand slipped into her top and flicked her nipple with his finger.

"Gilligan!" she gasped, right before he slipped his tongue into her mouth. She was startled at first, but then as he caressed one breast and gently but firmly pinched the nipple of the other, she started sucking on his tongue.

Before long, he kissed down her bare neck and shoulders and onto her chest. She leaned back in her chair to make it easier for him as he bent forward. She also arched her back to make her breasts stand out proudly. Gilligan groaned and then cupped a breast in each hand, hungrily moving between them, and sometimes resting his head in her cleavage, surrounded by her chest.

Sometimes he would slow down enough to tease her but soon he'd return to kissing and licking and finally sucking. She pulled his hair and desperately called his name a dozen times.

She couldn't remember when she'd last wanted a man this much. Well, there was the Professor, but part of the attraction was he was unattainable. Of course, she'd once thought Gilligan was equally unattainable, and here he was, ripe for the picking and more desirable than ever.

Gilligan looked up at her and said, "I really want you, Ginger, even though I'm not sure what for."

She laughed softly and then kissed his forehead. "I'll teach you soon. I promise."


	15. Leopard

Gilligan was surprised to see a blanket spread on the ground for their fifth date. "Are we having a picnic?"

Ginger smiled. "Not exactly. Please sit down."

He figured she meant on the blanket rather than in a chair. "Should I take off my shoes?"

"Well, it's a start."

He blushed a little but slipped off his white sneakers and sat Indian style on the blanket.

He expected her to sit next to him but instead she turned on the radio, quickly going through all the stations they could pick up on the island. Eventually she sighed, "Well, this will have to do."

The hypnotic instrumental seemed to be what he'd learned that summer was called "psychedelic" music, the latest kind of rock & roll. It was unimaginable three years ago, when Mosquitomania was all the rage.

As Ginger turned to face him, her movements became a dance. He thought of her native dance in _Belly Dancers from Bali Bali_ , which he saw three times, and the even sexier rain dance in _The Rain Dancers of Rango Rango,_ which he saw five times. This was her sexiest dance of all, and it was just for him. His eyes tried to follow her eyes, and her arms, legs, belly, hips, and bottom.

Tonight she was wearing a leopard sarong. Not from a real leopard. A lion had once washed ashore, but the Professor said that there no cats native to the island. Ginger liked leopard patterns.

Gilligan suddenly remembered when Mary Ann got a bump on her head and thought she was Ginger. She wanted to rehearse a love scene with Gilligan. And she was wearing one of Ginger's outfits, cut down to her petite size. The leopard top covered one shoulder, like this sarong, but it exposed Mary Ann's stomach. And the leopard skirt had a slit up the side, exposing one tan, surprisingly long leg.

Gilligan had felt very conflicted then. He was very attracted to Mary Ann in that outfit, and she was as forward and flirty as Ginger, maybe even more, because she was living out her image of Ginger. But it didn't seem fair to do anything with her when she wasn't herself. The thing was, the Skipper insisted that Gilligan had to distract her, while Ginger prepared to impersonate Mary Ann. So he sent Gilligan back to her. Gilligan let her smooch him for hours, till dinnertime. Except for the guilt, it felt great. But he was pretty sure she didn't remember it, so he wasn't sure if it counted. Sometimes he wondered what it would've been like if she'd kissed him as herself. And lately he'd been wondering what the real Ginger would've done with him if he'd given in back then.

Ginger had a leopard print bathing suit, too, but Mary Ann hadn't got her hands on that, so Ginger still wore it sometimes. It was a one-piece, but he'd once dreamed of her in a leopard bikini, when he was a dictator. He'd ogled her in his dream, in a way he never would've in real life. This sarong was more modest of course, just showing off her shoulder and arms.

That is until she started unwrapping herself. She began by slowly exposing the other shoulder and then carefully sliding the fabric down to and then over her plump breasts. She danced all the while and kept dancing. His mind stopped wandering to the past and he gazed at her, mesmerized.

Well, he did think of touching and kissing her chest the last couple nights, and he was eager to do that again, even if it frustrated him with vague desires. But he was also simply enjoying this private performance.

She slipped the sarong lower, somehow not tripping on its increasing length. Her stomach was exposed now, but she kept going. He let out a little moan as he saw a waistband and gradually leopard print panties, not unlike the bikini bottoms in his dictator dream.

She let the sarong sink to the grass and still she kept up her psychedelic dance, now in just her underpants. Gilligan was awed by her untamed beauty.

And then the disc jockey's voice came on. She laughed and shut off the radio. He couldn't help looking at the way her spotted panties hugged her curvy bottom. And then she turned and flung herself onto the blanket. "Well, Gilligan, are you ready to take your clothes off?"

"I can't dance like that!"

She laughed. "Few people can. But you can take off your hat and shirt sitting down. Unless you want my help."

"You can do my hat." He was back to wearing his own clothes. Mr. Howell's hand-me-down suit needed to be washed after Gilligan wore it so many times, but he hadn't yet got up the courage to ask Mary Ann. Maybe Ginger could do it when it was her turn to do laundry again.

Ginger plucked his hat off his head and ran her fingers through his hair.

"That feels nice, but it makes it harder to take my shirt off."

"Sorry."

Gilligan peeled his red rugby shirt off. He was pretty comfortable going topless, even though he didn't have a muscular physique like Duke Williams or Tongo the ape man. Ginger had seen him without his shirt before, like when he dressed as natives and stuff.

Of course, it was different when she was topless, too, especially when she put her arms around him for a tight hug. "Wow, oh, wow!" he exclaimed, as he felt their chests press together. He wasn't even sure whose heart was beating fast, maybe both of theirs.

They kissed passionately and he knew this still wasn't birds & bees stuff, but they were definitely getting closer.

And then she did that back scratch she did to him early on, when Mr. Howell sent her to find out about a turtle, so he melted, but this time sitting rather than standing. She sucked his tongue, too, and he felt like he'd give her anything she wanted.

He could feel her easing them into a horizontal position. She was pretty strong for a girl, or maybe his body was being very cooperative. Her hand strayed down to his belt.

"Please, Ginger!" he cried, not even sure what he was pleading for.

"Gilligan," she whispered in his ear, "I want to see you naked."

"Are you sure? I mean, I'm so skinny."

"I'm sure," she said, undoing his belt.

He groaned but didn't stop her. She unzipped his bell-bottoms, too, and he gasped when her hand lingered on his crotch.

She kissed his cheek and said, "You need to lift your bottom to get your pants off."

She was right of course. It would've been different if he was standing. He wondered if the world's greatest lover would've taken his own pants off or let the girl do it. He probably would've undressed her, but Gilligan wasn't feeling that bold.

"Let me do it," he said and she nodded. He awkwardly wriggled out of his bell-bottoms, expecting her to laugh. She was smiling when he shyly looked at her as he knelt in just his boxer shorts, but it wasn't an amused smile.

"Oh, Gilligan," she sighed.

He didn't think his scrawny legs were anything to write home about, but then he realized her eyes were higher.

He coughed. "Sorry, I get this way around you lately, especially when we fool around. And the way you were dancing, well."

She reached out and stroked his hand. "You don't have to apologize. I'm very flattered."

He didn't tell her that she'd done this to him years before they met. He had the feeling she knew that by now. He let her guide his hand along her almost naked body for awhile, till she shivered and said, "There are a few ways to remove a lady's unmentionables."

"I can think of one to start with," he said, suddenly feeling bold. His free hand slid under her bottom and lifted it from the blanket, as his other hand gently tugged free of hers and moved to the front of her waistband.

"Naughty, naughty boy!" she scolded, although her eyes were half closed and her cheeks flushed.

"You're a naughty girl to be fooling around like this," he pointed out.

She giggled and then gasped as he eased her panties down her very long legs. He waited till her underwear was lying on the blanket before he looked at what he'd just revealed.

The Skipper had told him that women had a space between their legs that the part of men that got hard could go inside, and Skinny Mulligan had said something similar, although he'd never seen it and the Skipper had. Neither of them had gone into detail, so Gilligan hadn't known what to expect. But looking where Ginger's now slightly spread legs joined, he had to exclaim, "Ginger, you're beautiful! Like a tropical flower!"

"Oh, Gilligan," she sighed.

"Can I see more?"

She opened her legs wider and he felt overwhelmed by the colors and curves. To think that such a funny-looking part of him could join with such beauty! It was exciting and intimidating at the same time.

"Gilligan, please lie next to me."

He did and she kissed his mouth. Their tongues danced and he imagined more intimate parts dancing.

He felt her easing down his boxers and then taking him in hand, doing what he did to himself sometimes when he was alone and thinking of her or Mary Ann. She seemed to know just how to touch him, although her movements were slower and more teasing than his own rushed, frantic motions. He caressed and squeezed her breasts with both hands, as they hungrily French-kissed.

"Gingergingerginger!" he urged her when she sped up.

She now kissed his ear and murmured, "Do you want me, Gilligan?"

"Yes!"

"Good, because I want you. And I think tomorrow night I'll claim you."

"OH WOW!" Gilligan felt like his mind exploded as she made his pleasure erupt like a volcano.

She waited till the earth stopped shaking and his breathing returned to almost normal before she took his hand and said, "Let me take you on a little preview tour of tomorrow's journey."

His fingers explored inside her, as they necked and she explained what he was touching and what she was feeling. Halfway through, she lost her calm manner and was moaning things like, "Just a little more, Gilligan!" and "So good, Gilligan!"

And by the end of it, he was so excited that she had to help him out again. Afterwards, they both lay on the blanket, exhausted. But it was after midnight, so they reluctantly got dressed again. Except she left off her leopard panties, and that was the last thing he thought of when he passed out in his hammock.


	16. Green

As Ginger and Gilligan made their way to the clearing for their sixth date, she thought of how they weren't as formally dressed as on their first date. He was wearing his usual outfit and she was wearing her green dress, a nice dress but hardly a gown. But then she probably wasn't going to be wearing it much longer.

It had been wonderful lying next to him naked the night before, getting to know each other in a whole new way. Her body was especially new to him of course, the first naked woman he'd ever touched, or probably even seen. But, although he wasn't her first man, he was new to her. Not that she hadn't seen his chest and legs at times, especially when he was dressed as a native, but those were hardly erotic circumstances. And last night she'd seen that he was more wiry than skinny. And his rear was as tight as an athlete's, maybe from all the running he did. As for the front, well, he was physically very much a man, even if not quite a man in experience.

Tonight, if all went well, would give him that experience. She wished it didn't have to be on a blanket, but it was better than on the ground, and it wasn't like she was able to drag a bed all that way without someone noticing. They could try putting the two cane chairs together, but that wouldn't be long enough for someone to lie down on. Or one person sitting in a chair would work once Gilligan was a more advanced student. But for a first time, lying on the blanket would be fine.

She wondered if Gilligan was nervous. He likely was. She was a little, and she knew more what to expect. Or maybe it was because she knew what to expect. Not so much the sex as what came after. Despite all their intimacies that week, sex was in its own separate category. It was bound to change the way they saw each other, even more than those views had already changed.

Not that she hadn't been aware of this when she first made her request/offer, but that had been in the abstract, and now it was about to become a reality.

And it wasn't as if she'd take Gilligan's virginity and then be done with him. There was so much more she had to teach him than could be conveyed in one session. Even if these had actually been dance lessons, a week wouldn't have been enough. Besides, if the lessons so far were any indication, she would definitely want more than one time with him.

This time when they got to the clearing, she went through the radio stations until she found some mood music, a sweet but sensuous instrumental. She hoped she wouldn't have to get up and change the station, or turn the radio off, but this would do for now.

Gilligan was lying on his side, watching her, when she turned around. They smiled at each other, and she came over to the blanket and lay beside him.

They cuddled and kissed, not rushing into it, letting things build. After awhile, she turned her back to him and said, "Could you please unzip my dress?"

"OK."

Her hair wasn't up tonight, since she liked to accessorize this outfit with a headband. He gently moved the back of her hair out of the way so it wouldn't get caught in the zipper. This was typical of his low-key thoughtfulness. He unzipped slowly, kissing the back of her neck.

When he got to the middle of her back, he asked, "Is that what I think it is?"

"Yes, Gilligan, I'm wearing a bra, solely for the sake of your education."

"Well, thank you."

It was one reason she'd gone with this dress. The neckline wasn't as plunging as on her gowns, and her shoulders were more covered up, although it was sleeveless, like most of her dresses, so her arms were of course exposed. She was more modest about her legs, although she knew she had good ones. He'd see those, and what was between them, again soon enough.

"Do you want me to explain the hooks?" she offered.

"Nah, I'll figure them out."

It wasn't like knots, but brassiere hooks weren't too far outside the sailor man's area of expertise. And Ginger knew it was easier to unfasten them with her back to him, than if he tried to do it while necking, like her high school boyfriends used to try.

However, once her bra was unhooked, Gilligan began kissing her neck again, one hand holding her hair off to the side as his other hand caressed her exposed back.

Sometimes she wondered how he knew to do such things. His technique wasn't polished, like a Hollywood wolf's. These gestures seemed to come instinctively from Gilligan's sensitivity mixed with his boyish enthusiasm. Yet he was manly, too, in his own Gilligany way.

The hand on her back moved into her dress, pulling her closer, so that they were spooning. It was sweet, but not only, since that hand then slipped into her open bra and teased her nipples.

"Gilligan!" she gasped, wondering what she'd unleashed and if she was truly ready for it.

"I want you, Ginger!" he groaned.

"I want you, too, Honey, but we've got a ways to go tonight." She'd called him Honey before, so it didn't necessarily mean anything. Heck, she called Mary Ann Honey, too, and it was a simple term of affection. Still, it sounded different under the circumstances.

"You were so sexy in the Honeybees."

She smiled over her shoulder. "You made a pretty cute Gnat."

"Thanks."

"And I loved getting you into tight trousers," she admitted.

"I bet you would've loved getting me out of tight trousers."

She was impressed that he was learning to flirt like that. Maybe he felt less verbally shy now that they'd been so physically intimate.

She rolled over in his arms and kissed him. His hand stayed inside the top of her loosened dress, but the other hand moved down from her neck to the back of her dress, until it found the green sash she wore as a belt with this outfit. The knot was of course no challenge to him.

Both his hands now explored her body inside her loosened dress, caressing everywhere but eventually landing back on her chest and in between her thighs. They were necking by then and she couldn't resist nibbling on his neck a little. Not enough for a hickey, since everyone would notice that, but enough to make him groan.

Then he said, "I thought you said you don't bite."

He must've been remembering when he interrupted her shower. That encounter had fed a lot of her fantasies over the years. She stroked his hair. "I was right. Under all that mud and shyness was a charming, attractive man."

"Thank you. And under your towel was a body even more gorgeous than I imagined."

"Oh, Gilligan!" she sighed, reaching for his zipper.


	17. Flight

"Gilligan," Ginger asked, as she stroked the few hairs on his chest, "what exactly do you know about the, well, birds and the bees?"

"They both fly." When he saw her look of dismay, he hastened to add, "Sorry, that was a joke. Um, the Skipper said that men and women are different. I already knew that, but he meant, uh, inside their underwear. They don't have what we have, me and Skipper have, not you and me. Instead they have a place between their legs where we can put what we have. Not that we can put it there on any woman at any time. The girl has to like you and say it's OK. Oh, and it's called the birds and the bees because it's natural and animals do it, including human animals. But all people can, except for like priests and nuns. Not that you have to be Catholic. Some people can't for other reasons besides their jobs, or they just don't want to, and that's fine. I used to think I didn't want to because girls made me nervous, but now I think they made me nervous because I wanted to. Wanted to be with them, not wanted to be nervous. And I guess I'm nervous now, because I'm babbling, but I still want to because you're so sexy and nice about it. Nice about me being nervous, not nice about being sexy, although you are really nice about that, too."

She kissed his cheek. "Thank you. I think you're sexy, too."

"You do? But you've met Rock Hudson and all these other handsome stars."

"It's not like I've seen them all in the nude. And none of them was as sweet or as appreciative as you. So that, along with your cuteness, makes you sexy."

"Well, thanks. But, um, your, uh, lovers, were they sweet and appreciative? Did they know how lucky they were to be with you?"

She got a faraway look in her eyes. "Not like this. Most of them, well, they were more experienced than you."

He shook his head. "Even if I'm with one hundred women someday, I'll remember how special you are."

She laughed and tousled the hair on his head. "Well, thank you."

Not that he cared about one hundred women, assuming he ever left the island. All he cared about right then was the beautiful half-naked woman lying next to him.

He kissed her and moved closer. It was funny how kissing was still kissing, even with all these other things added in, like his hands on her breasts, her hands on his back, their bottom halves separated only by their underwear.

After awhile he kissed down to her breasts. She sighed his name and wriggled out of the white panties that matched her headband. He stopped cupping her right breast and moved his left hand between her legs, trying to remember everything he'd learned the night before and trying not to think too much about how he'd get to put his hard part into her soft part later that night. Not that he could forget it of course, but he knew he had to do all this other stuff first. Luckily he liked all this other stuff.

She liked it, too. Her soft part responded to his fingers and her voice got throaty. Her nipples couldn't get any harder against his tongue and lips, but she did arch her back to make her left breast stand out more. Plus her heart was beating pretty fast. His was, too, but he was trying not to get too excited too soon.

He brought Ginger to "climax." Plays and movies and stories have climaxes, and so do men, but usually just one at a time. She'd told him women could have more than one, but sometimes they didn't have any. A good lover would make sure the woman had at least one, a great lover a bunch of them.

He would've kept moving his hand between her legs, to try to give her another, but she said, "Gilligan, please lie on your back and move your hands and mouth away."

"Did I do something wrong?"

"Not at all, you darling boy."

So he did as she asked and she scooted so that she could French kiss him from above. And her hand moved onto the bulge in his boxers. He groaned. Was this it or were there lots more steps? Well, he'd try to be patient. And he liked the way she cupped his bottom and then eased down his boxers.

She kept kissing as she played with him. Maybe she wanted to give him a climax, except then he wouldn't be hard anymore and he couldn't get inside her. Well, maybe tomorrow night.

And then she climbed on top of him and kissed his neck. Their naked bodies were touching from head to toe. This still wasn't birds & bees but it was still incredible.

"Do you still want me, Gilligan?"

"Of course!"

"Good." She sat up and then knelt, her legs on either side of his narrow hips. Her hand held his hardness again and then she somehow slowly guided it into her!

"Ginger!"

"Do you like that, Gilligan?"

"Gosh yes!"

She chuckled, but sweetly. Then she rolled her hips, a bit like her dances, but he could feel her movements from the inside. "Mmm, Gilligan, you feel so good in there!"

"Yeah!" She was so hot and wet, like the lagoon on a summer's day. And he wanted to go for a skinny-dip.

He took a few strokes and she responded with some sexy wiggles. Then she rocked on him and he watched from below, like it was a private performance. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do as a great lover though, till she cried, "Touch me, Gilligan!" Then he caressed her bottom and her chest, thinking about how he could feel these curves he'd been admiring for almost a decade, while she was taking pleasure from and giving pleasure to the most secret part of his body.

He wasn't sure how much credit he could take for this climax, since she'd done most of the work. But afterwards she lay on top of him, kissed his cheek, and said, "Sweet, darling Gilligan! I think you've been patient long enough. Let me catch my breath and then you can get on top."

"Oh, so there are two positions?"

She laughed and twirled a lock of his hair around her finger. "We won't have time to do all the positions tonight. But those are two of the basics."

"Can we do the rest tomorrow?"

She laughed again. "You may have the stamina for that, but I'm not sure I do."

He'd always thought stamina had to do with sports, but this was sort of a sport he supposed. "Too bad we don't have the radioactive vegetables anymore."

He wasn't trying to be funny, but this time she laughed hard. It felt almost as nice against his body as it did when she climaxed.


	18. Stars

Ginger lay on her back with her legs spread, more curious than ever to see what it'd be like to have Gilligan on top of her. It had felt fantastic to be on top of him, a position she hadn't tried in so long. It had been over three years since she'd had any sex, although of course last time was with that snake Randolph Blake, who had been a charming but selfish lover.

"I'm still not sure what to do," Gilligan confessed, as he knelt beside her, stroking her stomach.

He was still sweet and unsure, despite the knowledge and confidence he'd gained that week. She kissed his other hand.

"Climb on top of me but support your weight."

"Like push-ups?"

"Not exactly."

She waited until he was hovering above her before she wrapped one hand around his hard member.

"Oh, Ginger!"

"Carefully lower yourself, Honey, and I'll guide you in."

"OK!"

Just before he lay on top of her, she moved the tip of him into her.

"Ginger!" He gave an instinctive thrust deeper.

"Mmm, you feel good in there, filling me up."

"Ginger Ginger!"

"But let's work on your thrusts." As calmly as she could, she explained deep and shallow, fast and slow, straight in and out, and circular and whatever else she could think of.

"I don't know if I can do all that, especially my first time."

"We'll keep practicing until you can."

"Oh!" And then Gilligan started trying to go slow and gentle, but when she kissed his neck, he sped up and was done in a few minutes, gasping her name.

She would've been more frustrated if she hadn't already reached climax and if she hadn't been expecting something like that from the recently awakened virgin.

"Uh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean for that to happen. I mean not like that."

She kissed his cheek. "I know. It caught you off guard, didn't it?"

"Yeah. I liked it even more than when you were on top and it felt so good moving inside that I didn't want to stop until I had to."

"I know. And I did like your hunger and eagerness. But neither of us is going anywhere. You can savor it."

"Mmm." He French kissed her, this time sucking her tongue. Combined with his light but substantial weight on her, she felt excited again, but in a cosier way.

Their hands caressed each other's naked body, both stimulation and comfort. Eventually they necked and murmured what they liked about making love with each other.

She didn't know how much time passed before Gilligan was hard again, but she eagerly scooped him in. This time, his movements were slower and more dreamlike, except when he'd pull almost all the way out and then tease her, until she'd greedily reclaim him. She realized that in a way they'd been courting like this for three years. She thought of him teasing her with an orange, a good luck charm, and information, playing dumb so that she'd woo him, and he'd never give her what she wanted, except the experience of teasing and being teased. This time he didn't retreat very far, and this time his surrender was his triumph, but the same could be said of her.

When she climaxed, he pushed deep inside of it, slowly withdrew, and then quickly dived back in. And another climax followed so Gilligan repeated these moves.

"GILLIGAN!" she groaned, amazed at what a fast learner he was.

"I wish I'd known three years ago what a fun game this was."

She laughed throatily. "You wouldn't have been knocking yourself out against posts and trees, would you?"

He took the question seriously. "Your kisses were so intense, it would've taken me awhile to be ready for this. But, yeah, now I wish we'd gotten an earlier start."

"Well, you're certainly making up for lost time."

"Mm hm."

They started necking again, and now their bodies moved together, she setting a rhythm and he doing his best to match it. She could feel the next climax coming, so she gently bit his neck and scratched his back in that certain spot that made him melt in her arms, this time also melting between her legs.

The ground seemed to shake below them, although this earthquake was inside her and around them. While they always tried not to be too loud, just in case one of the other castaways went for a late night stroll, their moans, groans, grunts, sighs, and cries did startle some sleeping birds in the branches above them. Ginger looked up and saw the no longer quite full moon and a cloudless black sky with one hundred stars.

Then she looked into Gilligan's eyes, which were now sleepy and glazed. "Gilligan, what color are your eyes?" She'd never been sure, and it was even harder to tell at night.

"Well, there's the white part with a black circle in the middle and then between them—"

She laughed and said, "Oh, Gilligan." She almost said, "I love you," but she stopped herself. She meant it as she found him wonderful and adorable, but he wasn't just the cute boy she liked to play with. He was also her eager new lover, whose manhood she was privileged to be the first to enjoy.

"Oh, Ginger!" He started kissing all over her face, murmuring belated thanks for what she'd taught him. But she felt like she, too, was on a journey of discovery. They were sort of like Mr. And Mrs. Howell, minus the safari outfits.


	19. Advice

"Skipper, can I talk to you?"

His best friend sat down on the lower bunk. The cane chairs would've come in handy then, but they were still in the clearing Gilligan and Ginger used for lessons. "What is it, Little Buddy?"

Gilligan had spent all day thinking about how to lead up to this, but he found himself blurting out, "I think I'm in love with Ginger!"

"Those must be some dance lessons!"

Gilligan grimaced. He'd have to admit this part, too, since it was connected to the other part. "Um, actually, I lied. Or at least I didn't correct you when you guessed. She's teaching me something else."

"Lovemaking?" the Skipper said quietly.

Gilligan was a little surprised that the Skipper guessed so quickly, but then the Skipper was a man of the world. "Um, yeah. She's teaching me to be the world's greatest lover."

He paused, expecting the Skipper's guffaw here. The Skipper did smile, but he just said, "Go on."

"Well, obviously it'll take a long time. But so far it's a lot of fun. For both of us. But last night was different. It was the first night we were, um, really together. And I felt different about her."

"In what way?"

"Well, I've always liked Ginger. But last night I felt like she's the most special, wonderful girl in the world. And I want to be with her forever." He blushed saying it to the Skipper, but he wasn't ready to say it to Ginger yet.

"Gilligan, was this during or after you were 'together'?"

"Well, both. But I still feel that way today. I'm thinking of proposing tonight." Maybe the Skipper would have some good advice on what to say, although that might be more of a question for Mr. Howell.

"Whoa, slow down, Little Buddy! I'm sure you had a great time with Ginger, and I'm happy for you, but why the big rush?"

"Isn't that what people do when they fall in love?"

"Sometimes. But, well, first of all, is Ginger in love with you?"

"I'm not sure," Gilligan admitted. "I should probably ask her, huh?"

"Maybe. But first give it some more thought about whether you're in love with her."

Gilligan realized he had nothing to compare it to, except what he saw in the movies, and he'd never seen a situation exactly like this. "But what about all these feelings I've never had before?"

"Those are great feelings," the Skipper said, with a dreamy, maybe reminiscing look on his face. "And Ginger's a very sweet girl to make your first time so special. She's a wonderful girl in a lot of ways."

Gilligan was tempted to say that it hadn't happened the first time. It was the last time he was inside her, especially but not only when they reached the climax together, that he fell for Ginger. But he didn't have the vocabulary to explain to the Skipper what he had felt, except that it was magical and natural at the same time and it made him happy like never before.

The Skipper shook his head and looked at Gilligan more seriously. "But you're young and you're going to meet a lot of girls in your life."

"On the island?" Gilligan said skeptically.

"We won't be here forever. And what if you meet a girl you like better but you're tied to Ginger?"

"I don't see how another girl could make me feel the way Ginger does."

"No, not exactly the same. Every girl is different. And you might find one who makes you feel better, and not just physically."

Gilligan wanted to explain that this wasn't just physical with Ginger. She was sweet and patient, but also playful and creative. She was the girl of his dreams and they could be anything together.

But before he could find the right words, someone knocked.


	20. Eaves

Ginger knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but she found herself doing it twice in a row. The first time it happened while she was passing the Howells' hut.

"Lovey Darling, why are you crying?"

"Because Mary Ann was crying!"

"Is this like yawning being contagious?"

"It's to do with the reason she was crying."

"What was the reason?"

"She said she stubbed her toe."

"That's unfortunate but no reason for you to cry."

"No, you don't understand. That wasn't the real reason. But that's what she told me when I wanted her to confide in me."

"Confide about what?"

"About Gilligan!"

"You've lost me, Lovey."

Mrs. Howell sighed. "Haven't you noticed how he's been following Ginger around like a little puppy this week?"

"Well, he probably has a little crush on her from the dance lessons. After all, dance means romance."

"It's more than that, especially today at mealtimes. And Ginger was looking fondly at Gilligan. And I think Mary Ann is jealous."

"Well, you may be right, but it's inevitable, isn't it, after all this time? All these unmarried people on a tropical island. I'm surprised it took so long for a romance to develop."

"Oh, Thurston, you know I have nothing against romance, but this is the wrong one. Gilligan needs to be with Mary Ann, and Ginger needs to be with the Professor."

"Isn't that for them to say?"

"Not if I know better than they do. And I can understand Gilligan having his head turned by Ginger's glamour, but she's too sophisticated for him. He won't fit in to her world when we're rescued."

"Lovey, it's not worth upsetting yourself over all this. We don't know what the future will bring, and this between Gilligan and Ginger may fizzle out. Or maybe they'll fall in love and you can matchmake the Professor and Mary Ann."

Ginger assumed he was kidding, but she suddenly felt possessive of the Professor. Mrs. Howell was right. This was a mismatch if you thought in terms of anything serious. But it wasn't meant for anything long-term. She'd teach Gilligan until they tired of each other. Then they'd go back to being friends, but with this lovely shared secret memory.

She did feel funny about Mary Ann. Maybe her friend had been crying over nothing, or maybe she was more bothered by Ginger's lessons than she usually let on. Ginger didn't want to hurt her, but if Mary Ann wouldn't speak up for herself, what was Ginger supposed to do?

As for Gilligan having a crush, well, it was natural that he'd think more fondly of her after what they'd experienced. She felt the same way, but she knew it wasn't like being in love, not real love. It wasn't like they had much in common or had shared any deep thoughts. They just had this special thing together, separate from the rest of life on the island, and totally foreign to life back home.

Ginger slowly wandered away from the Howells' hut, thinking about all this, and then she found herself outside the sailors' hut. And she heard Gilligan telling the Skipper that he was in love with her! She hadn't realized he felt that way. And she didn't know if it was just Gilligan's lack of experience with other women, or if he genuinely had such strong feelings for her.

She really didn't know what to do. And it was an hour until their date, so she'd have to decide quickly. She was glad that the Skipper was advising Gilligan to not get carried away, but she didn't know if the younger sailor would listen.

And she knew she shouldn't keep listening, but she couldn't help it. Until finally she decided on something. She knocked and the Skipper answered.

"Oh, hi, Ginger." He understandably looked self-conscious, if less than Gilligan did.

"Hi, Skipper. Um, Gilligan, could you meet me at my hut tonight?"

"Sure, Ginger. Or we could leave right now if you want."

"No, in an hour's fine."

She planned to go straight back to her own hut after Gilligan's, but along the way she saw Mary Ann entering the Professor's hut. She was very tempted to go eavesdrop, but she felt like she'd heard enough for the moment. And it'd be better to confront Mary Ann when they were alone.

However, it was almost eight o' clock by the time her roommate returned. Ginger couldn't help wondering what Mary Ann had to say to the Professor. He seemed an unlikely person to confide romantic feelings about Gilligan to. Or was she perhaps confiding romantic feelings about the Professor himself? Maybe over time, her interest had shifted away from Gilligan, and that was why she hadn't objected to Ginger's lessons. Or maybe this was about something else entirely, something she didn't want to tell Ginger.

Mary Ann got back at five till. She didn't look guilty but she did look surprised. "Aren't you going to change for your, um, meeting with Gilligan?"

Ginger looked down at the muumuu she'd put on when she came back to the empty but. "I did change. And I'm not going out tonight."

"You're not?"

"No, I'm too tired." That was true. She hadn't gotten nearly enough sleep that week. "I'm staying in."

"But what about Gilligan?"

"I think you should go with him."

"Me! But I can't teach him...!"

"Nonsense, you're a great dancer."

Mary Ann knew that Ginger knew that Mary Ann knew that these weren't dance lessons. But Mary Ann looked as if she didn't know what to say.

And then someone knocked on the door.


	21. Storm

As Gilligan walked in the moonlight, he felt very confused. He'd shown up at the girls' hut ten minutes ago, expecting another great date with Ginger, and maybe a chance to tell her how he felt, maybe a chance to find out how she felt. And she'd sent him off with Mary Ann. And if Ginger was too tired to go out, why hadn't she said something earlier?

He didn't know what to say to Mary Ann besides small talk, and she wasn't saying much either. He wasn't even sure where they were going. Not the clearing where he had the lessons with Ginger. They were just wandering aimlessly.

Then suddenly she said, "I'm sorry you're missing your, um, lesson with Ginger."

"Oh, that's OK." He tried not to blush. Mary Ann still thought these were dance lessons. The Skipper was the only one who knew better, and he wouldn't have told her, even if he'd had a chance. "There'll be tomorrow night I guess."

"How many more lessons do you think you'll need?"

"Oh, I don't know. There are a lot of, um, steps and movements. It might take years." Gilligan knew he couldn't tell Mary Ann that he thought he was in love with Ginger. Not before he told Ginger herself. It wasn't like with the Skipper, where he could ask Mary Ann for advice. The farmgirl wasn't an experienced man, or woman, of the world. Besides, it might turn out that Ginger didn't want to marry him but she'd still want to keep training him to be the world's greatest lover. And that would be OK. At least he'd still get to be with Ginger and do things with her.

"And then what?"

"You mean will I enter a dance contest after we get rescued?"

She shook her head. "Gilligan, I know she's not teaching you to dance."

He stopped in his tracks. "You do?"

She stopped walking, too. "Yes. I've known almost from the beginning."

"Why didn't you say something?"

"What was I supposed to say?"

"Well, what do you think about it?" He assumed she approved, unless she felt she had no right to object.

"Well," she said slowly, "I figured this was something that you wanted. It's not like the old days, when you'd try to avoid kissing her."

"Yeah," he softly.

"And I know that men want that sort of experience. And Ginger is very sexy of course. So even someone as shy as you would say yes. I'm not going to judge you for it."

"Oh." He wasn't sure how he felt about what she was saying, but she wasn't finished.

"Personally, I would never have, um, that sort of intimacy with someone I wasn't in love with, but I know it's different for men."

He really wasn't sure what to say now. He hadn't been in love when it started. Was he now? Would it be different if he'd fallen in love with Ginger first?

"Or are you in love? Never mind. None of this is any of my business."

"No, it's OK." Maybe she was the right person to talk to after all. "I'm trying to figure out how I feel about all this. The Skipper says I might be mixing up physical feelings with emotional feelings."

"Oh. Yes, I can see how this is all new and confusing for you."

Then he had a great idea. "Maybe you could help me."

"By talking about all this? Well, you know I don't have much experience myself. But I know a little about relationships from listening to my radio soap operas. Not that Old Dr. Young ever had a dilemma like this."

He shook his head. "The Skipper said that I'd have to be with lots of women in order to figure out what love is. So maybe if I was with you, then I could start to understand my feelings for Ginger."

At first, he thought she slapped him really hard, but then he realized that there was a clap of thunder at the exact moment her palm met his cheek. When the lightning struck, he could see tears running down her cheeks, as if she was the one who was struck. Before the next bolt, she bolted deeper into the jungle.

For a long moment, he stood frozen in shock. Why was Mary Ann so offended? He knew he was still a long way off from the world's greatest lover. Maybe he should've waited until he had more experience before he made the offer.

Or maybe Mary Ann was offended on her friend's behalf. After all, Gilligan would've been cheating on Ginger, although they hadn't yet made a commitment. But it would be to Ginger's benefit for Gilligan to do something to sort out his feelings. Still, he could see how Mary Ann might not have wanted to be mixed up in this.

He thought about what she'd said about only doing something that intimate if you were in love. And he and Mary Ann weren't in love. He liked her of course, and he worried about her sometimes, like when she thought she was Ginger, and when they all thought her boyfriend back home was getting married.

Lightning hit a tree and a falling branch almost hit Gilligan, as the realization hit him that he'd upset a very sweet girl, one of his best friends, and she was now running recklessly through the jungle, during a storm. He started running after her.

He was the fastest runner on the island and he knew the jungle best, even at night, so he soon caught up with her. "Mary Ann! Wait!"

"Leave me alone, Gilligan!"

"I understand if you're mad at me, but we've got to get out of the storm."

The rain was getting heavier, and she stopped running. "We've wandered so far from camp." She sounded a little scared.

"There's a cave not far from here."

She hesitated, as if wondering whether to trust him. Then she nodded and took his hand. "Lead me there."

So he did.


	22. Night and Day

Ginger didn't know what she expected to happen when she sent Gilligan and Mary Ann off together. She just knew it was the right thing to do. Or was it?

She hoped that if Mary Ann did have feelings for Gilligan, she'd find the courage to finally voice them. But what if Gilligan didn't have feelings for Mary Ann, or was too blinded by his feelings, or what he thought were his feelings, for Ginger?

Or what if Gilligan and Mary Ann fell in love and Ginger lost what she had with Gilligan? Maybe this was a mistake. But she was sure it would make matters worse if she went after them.

She somehow fell asleep, despite all her concerns. After all, she hadn't been lying when she said she was tired. Her sleep was brief and dreamless.

She awoke to the sounds of a rainstorm. A lightning flash revealed that the other bed was empty. So Mary Ann was still out with Gilligan. Unless she returned to camp and stopped by the Professor's hut to report her conversation with Gilligan.

Ginger decided to wait up for her roommate. They needed to talk things out, no matter how awkward it might be.

Time passed and she started to get worried. Were the two of them OK out there, in the storm, in the dark?

It was a relief when she thought she could hear footsteps in the rain. Mary Ann was coming home. The talk could wait until morning. Feeling like Mary Ann's mother forgiving the breaking of curfew, she got out of bed and grabbed a towel to dry her roommate's hair with.

But before Ginger could get to the door, someone knocked. It couldn't be Mary Ann. And she doubted it was Gilligan. She dropped the towel on a chair and grabbed her blanket. "Who is it?" she called in as normal a voice as possible.

"It's the Professor. I hope I'm not disturbing you."

Despite her worries, she had to stifle her laughter. "Not at all." She wrapped the blanket around herself and said, "Please come in." She didn't know what this was about, but she was glad he was here, even if it might be awkward when Mary Ann returned and found her alone in their hut with the Professor, especially at this hour.

He entered and looked around. She realized how dark it was, especially when there was no lightning.

She lit a candle as he said, "So Mary Ann isn't here."

Ginger tried to hide her disappointment as she turned to face him again. "No. Did you want to talk to her about something?"

"No, I just wondered if she and Gilligan made it back all right."

She played dumb. "She and Gilligan?"

"Yes, I saw them leave camp at the usual time you leave each night. Uh, I hope you two didn't quarrel."

So the Professor had observed her and Gilligan departing for the nightly lessons. But then he'd also noticed Gilligan's departure with Mary Ann, although maybe only for the novelty.

"No, Mary Ann and I didn't quarrel."

"I meant you and Gilligan."

"No, we've never gotten along better than we have in the past week."

"I see." Was the Professor jealous or just concerned? And about her or Mary Ann? Then he said, "I saw the blanket."

She looked down at the blanket wrapped around her. "The blanket?"

"I mean the one in the clearing with the cane chairs."

She realized that that blanket was likely getting soaked. The cane chairs would probably be fine. Then she realized what he was saying. "Oh, that blanket."

He quietly said, "They're not dance lessons." It wasn't a question. Either his keen, analytical mind had pieced it together, or Mary Ann had told him that evening.

"No, they're not."

"And how does the snake fit in?"

She knew better than to laugh. "I lured it off a cliff with a flute, your old flute. I, I saved Gilligan's life and asked him for a favor."

"This was a favor he granted you?"

"Well, obviously he got some benefit out of it, too."

"And meanwhile I'm conducting research with a faulty premise."

"I'm sorry about that, but you can see why we couldn't explain."

"Yes."

"Do you want the towel?"

"The towel?"

"Your hair is wet from the rain. But the towel can probably dry out by the time Mary Ann gets back. Or I can get her another towel."

"Oh, yes, thank you." He picked up the towel and rubbed his head with it. She couldn't see his face when he said, "So you don't expect them back for awhile?"

"I don't know what to expect," she admitted.

"So this wasn't a scheme to train Gilligan so they wouldn't both be inexperienced?"

"Of course not!" At least it hadn't consciously been. She did know Gilligan would go on to other women, but not yet, and not Mary Ann. "I just wanted them to talk." Should she tell the Professor about her friend's possible crush on Gilligan? Or did the Professor know more about this than Ginger did?

"They must have a great deal to talk about then." The Professor's face was exposed again, with the towel draped over his shoulders, but she couldn't read his tone. Sarcastic? Wistful?

"Yes."

"And maybe we have a little to talk about, too."

"More than a little."

"And I can keep you company while you're waiting for Mary Ann's return."

"That might be all night. What with the storm and all."

"In that case, would you mind if I changed out of my wet things?"

"Not at all," she said, unwrapping her blanket and putting it back on the bed.

...

Ginger smiled when she awoke to daylight and the Professor's breath in her face. She stroked his back and felt the smooth silk of her kimono. She smiled more when she remembered last night.

He opened his eyes and mouth. He kissed her before he said, "Good morning."

"Good morning."

"How did you sleep?"

"Oh, not a wink. I couldn't stop worrying about Gilligan and Mary Ann."

Her tone was playful but he seriously replied, "They're not back yet?"

"Well, I doubt she is. It seems like she would've spoken up last night."

"I should go check with the Skipper to see if Gilligan came home."

"The Skipper thinks Gilligan is with me," she had to point out.

"And the Skipper knows the truth about the lessons."

"Yes."

"Still, I should go."

"Do you want to go, Roy?"

"Of course not." He stroked her hair. "But it's daylight and we can't be found like this."

"Then we should get out of bed and get dressed. Then you can sit and wait with me for Mary Ann's return, like you promised."

"But the Skipper and I should be forming a search party."

"It's stopped raining. I'm sure they'll be home safe and sound soon."

"Then we definitely should get out of this bed and get dressed."

So they did. He was in his usual outfit of a white shirt and khaki slacks, telling her of his observations of island snakes, when Mrs. Howell dropped by.

"Hello, Ginger, sorry to disturb you girls so early in the morning, but— Oh, hello, Professor." She looked startled but not scandalized by the man's presence.

"Hello, Mrs. Howell," he said, not sounding too self-conscious.

"The Professor was just telling me about his reptile research."

"How nice. Er, Mary Ann isn't back yet?"

"No. I think she got up early to listen to the _Sunrise Exercise_ show on the radio."

"But it's long past sunrise."

"Well, I just know she got up before I did." Ginger had to play this carefully. She didn't actually know what had happened to Mary Ann after leaving with Gilligan, and Ginger would try to protect her friend's reputation as long as she could.

"I see. Dear, I don't want to alarm you, but last night I ran into Gilligan and Mary Ann, and he said you were too tired to dance, so he was going for a walk with Mary Ann. But then the storm came, and I don't think either of them came home last night."

The Professor spoke up. "I'm sure even Gilligan knows to come in out of the rain."

Ginger wanted to defend Gilligan, but she had a feeling about what Mrs. Howell was really concerned with, and it might be for the best if the society matron continued to think of Gilligan as bumbling and innocent.

"But out of the rain and into what?"

"Well, there are caves. I'm sure Gilligan found a cave for them to shelter in."

Ginger wanted to shake her head and wearily sigh, "Roy." He'd fallen right into Mrs. Howell's trap.

"All night? Alone? Unchaperoned?"

Mr. Howell appeared just then. "Lovey, the Skipper hasn't seen Gilligan. He thought Gilligan was out with Ginger. But he doesn't think there's anything to worry about. They probably found shelter. And as for that other thing we talked about." He glanced at Ginger and the Professor. "Well, we are talking about Gilligan and Mary Ann after all. What could happen?"

"Thurston, even if you're right, think of how it looks. A young attractive couple, spending all night together."

Mr. Howell looked helpless, the Professor embarrassed. Ginger hoped that her years of acting gave her a noncommittal expression, although she felt like blushing.

Mrs. Howell didn't seem to notice, perhaps because the Skipper then called, "There they are!"

The other four looked through the doorway to see Gilligan and Mary Ann emerging from the jungle, safe and sound.

...

It was perhaps as well that Gilligan didn't argue when Mrs. Howell told him, "Now you'll have to marry her," although he did need a clarification on "which her." Eight and a half months after the wedding to "Mary Ann of course," George Jonas Gilligan was born. As for Ginger's first pregnancy, that is another story.


End file.
